meghan dunn

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The Military Child

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April. The month of the military child.

I honestly love this month.  What it represents. I am so proud to be the daughter of a Green Beret, a man who has been to places and done things that I cannot even fathom. The amount of grit you have to have to do what my dad does and countless other fearless soldiers is overwhelming, and every time I think about it, pride surges through me.

A week ago my brother and I sat down with my dad and watched the movie “12 Strong.” This movie takes place after 9/11 when they sent the first ODA team to fight the Taliban. Yeah, maybe I was gushing over Chris Hemsworth the whole time, but the movie was incredible. The number of times we had to pause it and ask a million questions, added a good 30 minutes, but I caught myself in a whole other perspective. Even I, someone who has been raised around the military, gained a little understanding of what my dad has been through. I could never fully understand or be able to comprehend what he has done, but I learned a lot. We would stop the movie, and my dad would share his own stories. We watched Hemsworth ride horseback on rough terrain, talk to warlords, fight the Taliban and would ask our dad, “Have you done this?” His usual response is  “Hollywood is Hollywood.” Sometimes He’d give us a slight smile and nod, pride in his smirk, but something in his knowing eyes told me I would never understand. He has done unimaginable, great things, and I get to be his daughter. That is amazing.

I was also able to intensely relate to the movie. Every emotion that the families felt, I knew too well. In one scene, the soldier is gathering his belongings in big plastic crates in the garage, getting ready to leave for war. His wife and son immediately knew what was happening when they saw. I have sat in the garage and watched my dad pack numerous times, feeling the dread and anger of the upcoming deployment day. I once saw an orange, heart pillow that is tied on the ends with the words, “I love you” in black marker poking out of one of his bins. I had made that in fourth grade before one of his major deployments and he has brought it everywhere since.

I have always been in awe of my dad. I see him as this strong hero that will always protect, but my mom is the strongest person I know. While my dad was serving our country, she kept everything running at home. I watched as she closed the door behind my dad when he was leaving for Afghanistan fall of my fourth-grade year. She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood in front of my two younger brothers and me who were crying on the couch. She put her hands on her hips and said, “Alright, guys. We can do this.” Even though her husband just left for nine months to a dangerous place, she was being strong for her children, always has been. She went to work and we went to school, it was a hard day.

My mom has taken care of three kids single-handedly for the majority of the time. She has not only worked full time but made sure we were getting everything any normal kid with two parents were getting. She sacrificed. So much. She drove us to school, soccer, cooked dinner, cleaned the house, taught students (NOT an easy job), and made sure we were loved all with a smile on her face. It amazes me.

My parents. They shaped me. My dad’s job became our lifestyle, and I am better for it. Sometimes I don’t think military kids get enough credit. Sure, a month, but it isn’t acknowledged enough. We have seen our fathers or mothers leave for months at a time, pulling ourselves together for reality. We prepare ourselves for when our soldier would come home months after a deployment to say where he or she is off to next. Crawled into our mother’s beds because of anxiety for them. Talked to our parent on Skype while they are in Afghanistan, (or some other remote place in the world) trying to fit everything into a short conversation. Wished for them during Christmas’, birthdays, and Easters. Saw families that had both parents, longing for some normalcy. Matured faster than most kids because we had to step up and help…no choice. Moved countless times, starting life over again and again. Made friends with kids who have lived in the same place their whole lives, never able to really relate to anyone. We have seen our parent at home struggle to keep everything going, the day our soldier gets home is marked on the calendar, (maybe in pencil because it would probably change) And that day is the best day. The day when we all cry again, but tears of relief…then adjust to having them home. We are some of the strongest children and teens I know, and I can’t help but think how much more resourceful, resilient, cultured, and adaptive we are going to be in the future. It is who we are, and it’s so cool.

Yet it’s so not cool. It’s great to be tough and smart and strong, but what we have had to go through to get there is less than cool. Again, it’s our story and we are unique for that. The pride I have for who my family is, what we have been through, and what we are becoming is immense. Every move we have made and deployment we have endured has been backed by Faith, that is not an easy thing to do. I know that it is a very cliche thing to say that I wouldn’t be who I am without those troubles and hardships that come with military life, however; that is the reality. To all of my fellow military brats: yes, it’s hard and difficult, but I truly believe that we are part of the future leaders of America, and we are growing stronger for it.

I think that military kids are sometimes overlooked and slip through the cracks. Going to new schools and making new friends, living an ever-changing life is tedious. If you see a new kid at school, please be their friend, even if they are moving in another short year. Chances are, you will be life long friends as I have many from several different places. I can’t emphasize enough how much they need your love, support, and friendship because I have been there. Being new is uncomfortable and scary, any act of kindness goes a long way.  Military families need help, too. The moms or dads left behind have to find ways to get their kids to school or sports and figure out dinner, homework, work, pets, and the many things that will break over the course of deployment.  It is a lot of stressful work. This is coming from a teen who has witnessed struggle at home to keep everything going and have had so many loving people reach out and support our family.

I cannot fit every detail, emotion, and fact that constitutes military life into this blog. I just want to give you a glimpse of it to either relate to other military families or help to educate people who don’t understand. I encourage you to watch “12 Strong”; I am so appreciative of the accurate demonstration of military life and what these strong soldiers and families go through. It has inspired me to write this because it is so significant that people have a little perspective of this life, why we stand up for the flag and this great country. Not because of personal beliefs or agendas, but because there are men, women, and children who have sacrificed so much, and who continue to sacrifice. I am so proud of who I am, what I come from, and what I stand for. Please support and love these military families as they remain strong and resilient every day. Thank you to those who have served, including the family members who are left behind. Thank you to the neighbors, grandparents, teachers, and friends who stand by these families’ sides. I admire and am grateful for all of you.

In my lifetime of being the daughter of a Green Beret and a warrior mother, I have learned to have unwavering faith in His plans. Learned to adapt to change and different environments. Learned to give 100% into every place. Learned to be strong for my family. The military has gifted me with a fire and a strong belief system, forcing me to build it over the years. As much as I have hated seeing my dad leave for months at a time or moving to a new place, the military is part of my identity. It has sparked a certain strength and assurance in myself that I cannot get anywhere else. Every city I move to, school I attend, prayer that I pray for my dad, I do it with undeniable faith in my God. This is the plan He has laid before me, and I know He has called me for a certain purpose in this uncertain world. I will always walk by faith, and that is honestly the only way to live a military life.

So here’s to all the military kids. You are the real ones.

Meghan Dunn

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Season of Waiting

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And just like that, we were comfortable; the weight and pressure lifted off our shoulders. I could almost see my family sigh of relief as we entered familiar territory; everything we have ever known. It’s a bubble that consists of places and feelings we know like the back of our hands. Winding country roads with orange maple trees and small grocery stores you have never heard of. People who hold doors open for you. Vast fields of cows grazing and clear skies of weather that makes your lungs cold, but in a good way. Homes on a hill or mountain as a train goes by. A warm house full of close family and friends, people I can be myself around. My family transformed by only two days of being here, wearing the trip well with wide smiles. Long rides in a truck with dogs in the back while blasting country music. This is what I know. This is what makes me happy. The more north we go, the more I can just close my eyes and feel myself smile all over. I am going home. As we entered Aberdeen late at night on the 22, I laid my head in my brother’s lap and listened to my family reminisce and talk about memories or how God has orchestrated all this. We drove to our old neighborhood and pulled into our good friends’ driveway. I looked down five houses to the place we used to call home. I imagined my six-year-old self riding bikes with friends on a summer day, or playing Four Square for hours. I missed it a little, but I feel content and know that chapter is closed. A new family with children now owns a house of our memories.

I look back on Christmas break, and I think about how grateful I was. Grateful to see so many friends and family and to refresh me of home. The goodbyes are horrible, as I always leave West Virginia with a tear-stricken face. I have said the word goodbye so many times, and it has now become a word I am too accustomed to, worn and tired from the countless occasions. The two words become cold and redundant as they lose their meaning. Leaving people you love and wondering if you will see them in a year or 6 months is painful, and unfortunately prevalent in my life. Nevertheless, I am so blessed to have family and friends that make it so hard to leave. Now that I am back in Miami, I find myself in a new season. This new year will bring a lot of changes and new starts, but first there is a time of waiting. A time for patience as I prepare for what is coming. Waiting is difficult, especially for me. It’s part of my “type-one enneagram” personality. I want situations to be perfect and I want it to happen right away. Having to deal with circumstances that are temporary and not ideal is difficult, especially when you have to wait for the better to come.

But I know the better is coming, it’s just the period of waiting that is killing me. Wanting to drop everything and sit back because I know what is going to happen. I am learning that the best way to deal with this is to keep living as if you weren’t waiting for anything. Fulfill your purpose and give it everything you’ve got, until the very last minute. Keep working for Him, spreading His love. I have come to know part of my job in Miami: set an example of God’s goodness. The people I have influenced may not know it now, but somewhere down the road, I hope they come to know Him and everything beautiful He has to offer. Just because there is this period of rest or anticipation, we need to keep doing our jobs to the best of our abilities, whatever He has called us to do. I am working on doing this, right now with my situation. Some of you may know, some may not, but it doesn’t matter. I have to keep living for Him and praising His goodness because that is all I can focus on right now…To keep me steady and true.

“Be still in the presence of the Lord. Wait patiently for Him to act” (Psalm 37:7). We all make these plans, and sometimes it’s even God’s doing. Then there is a gap between both plans, and you are stuck in transition. I am learning to give it all to Him, lay it down and keep giving it 100% at the stage I am now. That is all that can make sense when in reality I am weary, and jumping into the unknown. He can be my eyes and ears while I keep living tirelessly for Him.

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn

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Little Victories

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When you aren’t winning big, the next best thing is winning small. It’s hard to progress when you aren’t in ideal circumstances. You step back and look at the huge, giant, messy, overwhelming picture, and you see that you are losing. Losing happiness, hope, peace, strength, and encouragement. But if you step a little closer, you start to see little victories. If you are looking at the whole picture, they seem meaningless, but up close, they are meaningful. Little steps. They eventually lead to bigger ones.

I started to feel the move to Miami’s effects the first week of school. The summer was great. I got a little taste of what it was like in Miami, went to the Keys, drank tropical milkshakes, even had visitors. But it wasn’t vacation. That’s where it hit hard. When school began, it wasn’t my normal, at least last year’s normal. The people you are used to seeing, you don’t see them anymore. The people you sit at lunch with, you don’t sit with anymore. You know you’re alone when the only friend you have is your brother. It’s hard because you become so used to being friends and talking with people on a daily basis, that when you move 600 miles away, it’s like someone shut you in a room and locked the door, isolated. Yes, I make new friends. But it’s not always easy and something I like to do. So, yeah, school has been rough.

It got to the point where I almost wanted to transfer schools. Then I realized that I would be just as unhappy. So I had no choice but to accept it. Accept that this is how my life is this year. Accept that it’s going to be difficult. Accept that I cannot change where I am at this point in my life. My mom would ask me, “Where are your feet right now?” I would look down and think, “They are on the ground. In Miami. That’s where I am.” Once you accept situations, only then can things get better. It won’t look like it, but if you simply keep an open mind and take a step forward, the world seems a little brighter.

I still feel not as happy here, but I can deal with not liking something as much. The hardest was overcoming the difficult; pushing through that initial overwhelming bout of fear, hardship, and doubt. I hated my soccer coach. I didn’t agree with the way he instructed, played the game, and his morals. I hit my very low at halftime during a game when I left the bench crying. Coach had thrown my words back at the team and twisted them after I had a conversation with him about a formation. He made me feel like my opinions didn’t matter. Like I knew nothing. I did work it out, though, stayed with it, and found a rhythm. I found a way to laugh at what he says or give him what he wants to hear, but sort of with a double meaning. To me, that is a victory. A small one, but it has made it easier and more enjoyable to be on the team. When I first started school, I thought my chemistry teacher was the meanest teacher I ever had. Slowly, I won her over with my work ethic, grades, and questions. Victory #2. If I get an A on a test, that’s a win. I was literally jumping up and down when I found out I got an A on my first AP World History quiz. Yesterday, I finished my online class. When my dad surprised me with Chick-Fil-A after practice…victory. When I watch The Office with my family… victory. All of these things seem like nothing. They may be your normal, but right now I am soaking it all up. Every win, every little thing, because it is the only things that will keep me together. To keep from falling apart, you have to focus on something. So focus on the little things. When you have a bunch of little victories, it can feel like a big victory, so that is something.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Even in the worst of times when you feel like you have nothing going for you and nobody there for you, there is something to hold onto. Light literally defeats darkness. If you turn a flashlight on in a dark room, there is light. It may be more dark, but once you see that light, it accumulates. There is hope. God doesn’t hang you out to dry. He doesn’t bring you someplace and leave nothing for you. It’s not always easy at first, but with faith, drive, and perseverance, you can overcome the difficulties. Find the little victories and you have found the light. Look down. That’s where your feet are. Now look up, that’s where God is. You are in the right place.

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn

 

 

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Fear is a Liar

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I’m pretty sure anxiety will eventually be the death of me. I have always worried over things that I shouldn’t worry over, and being a perfectionist, that doesn’t help either. Nothing can be good enough and nothing will be good enough. I’m also a planner. I plan out almost every conversation in my head, what I could have said or what I should say. The whole ‘wanting to be prepared for everything in life’ is impossible, especially with my lifestyle. The military is something that I have no control over. At. All. When we are told where to go next, how can I plan for that?

Not too long ago, I was registering at a new school in our latest “home” of Miami. I was already overwhelmed with so much. New house, new neighbors, new soccer team. New…Not something I’m good at. When I was registering for my classes, I was told that there would not be an orientation. Normally, when I go to orientation, I would walk my schedule about a hundred times, making sure to note bathrooms and every twist and turn of every hall. But not this time. I am not given the chance for that. As embarrassing as it is, I could feel my walls closing in and panic starting to rise. Every anxiety and fear comes to the surface and I actually want to cry. How could I have planned for this? How can I plan for the first day of school when I have no idea where I am going in a school with over 3,000 kids? Fortunately, God already knows my heart, and I was given the opportunity to walk around by myself when I had to go in the Friday before school to get an ID made. There is still uncertainty but at least I know I have a general sense of direction.

Anxiety has always been apart of my life. It is torture. I can’t do anything without assessing a situation or playing out scenarios. When I was in fourth grade, my dad deployed to Afghanistan. Every night I would crawl into my mom’s bed. I had thought I was afraid of ghosts; a story some 10 year old told me at a sleepover. Now, I think I was scared for my dad, what could happen to him. We tried medications, oils, anything, but every night I was in my mom’s bed. Until the night my dad came home. That night, I slept soundly.

It is ironic that the life I was given is a sort that includes so much change, something I struggle with so much. Sure, I mean, I try to make it look easy. “It will be an adventure!” I would say to people, gritting my teeth and forcing a smile. Nope. Not my kind of adventure. But what kind of person would I be without the military? I would probably struggle with change more than I do now. It’s allowed me to deal with adversity; figuring it out. I can go into a new place and own it. Go into a new soccer team and own it. Is it easy? Never is. But I do it. Before I go out into the world meeting people and starting life over, I feel like crying. I take a deep breath, squeeze my eyes shut, then go and put a smile on my face because it will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

It’s what I needed. It’s forced me to do things that I really don’t want to do. Doing things unplanned, unknown, uncertain is most definitely out of my beautiful, prison-like comfort zone. But guess what? I grew from it. Everyday my comfort zone boundaries enlarge and expand. God gives what is needed. His master plan is bigger than what problem I am facing in front of me at the given moment. He calms my worries and fears because I know He has it under control. He has it under control. He has it under control. I have to tell myself this. The first day of school, I’m going to be okay. I have to be okay. He will give me strength and courage and it’s all just going to be okay.

School starts on Monday and I am scared out of my mind. Sure, I’ve started a new school before, but something about this feels different. It’s high school. I’m going to be a sophomore. Before the move to Miami, I had been promised four years. Just four years at the same school. Was that too much to ask? I had this vision that by my senior year, I would know everything about the school, know everyone, have friends. Lesson learned, don’t believe promises from the military. I had allowed myself to do that, and it was a mistake. When my mom first told my brothers and me about the Miami move back in February, I felt cold fear run over me. I was thinking, “This was not how this was supposed to go.” I couldn’t even bear thinking about the possibility of moving away from Niceville High. I had worked so hard to make friends and really build a reputation, as small and little as it was, I was proud. Everything was worked out. (Pathetic, I know.) There are much worse things that could happen in life. Regardless, fear is fear. And I was scared. As I saw on Snapchat all of the videos and pictures of my friends back in Niceville going to school, I couldn’t help but feel jealous and frustrated. That was supposed to be me. It would be so easy. So easy. It’s not like I was necessarily happy at that school, but I was comfortable. And sometimes comfort seems very similar to happiness. However, comfort and fear are temporary. I know this because this will be the fourth different school I will be going to in the past four years. Every year, it’s hard, but it gets easier. Every year there is a struggle to start life over, but it gets easier. It’s exhausting, but again, it gets easier. I can’t help but believe that working through the fear will make me who I am supposed to be. It’s a part of me. I will sacrifice my short-term happiness for His long-term plan. It’s the only way. I trust Him.

“Fear, he is a liar. He will take your breath. Stop you in your steps.” One of my favorite songs by Zach Williams. I listened to that song on the move to Miami. The image above is a picture that I had put on my Snapchat story when I was about 30 minutes away from a new life. I had felt the Holy Spirit inside of me when this song came on in the car, and I had to share, whether or not people knew what was going on in my life. Fear. He lies. It’s perfectly normal to have fear, but it’s not true. God wouldn’t bring you somewhere without a plan. He knows it, we just don’t. It gives me strength to know that the fearfulness isn’t from God, but Satan and that it’s not real. It’s a lie.

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). I have walked through dark times, times of worry, grief, and fear. Everyone has. The only thing that gives me hope is that my God is there. He is with me. This is his plan, in His hands, and He has it under control. Fear lies. Strength is real. Hope is real. Positivity is real. And courage is real. God. Is. Real.

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn

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Breaking the Mold

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If there is one thing that you should know about me, it’s that I am opinionated. Even when I was a toddler, I had a mind of my own. I would scream and cry if I didn’t like the outfit my mom picked out; including refusing to wear it and tearing my clothes off. I came into this world screaming and “strong willed” as my mom would put it, and I don’t think I stopped. I’m pretty sure my mom could vouch for that because at times I still see her pulling out the book, “New Strong-Willed Child” by Dr.James Dobson.

I have always grown up in a Republican household. I still remember when Obama was running against McCain in the presidential election, and my dad would ask me, “Who do we want as our president?” I would say, “McCain!” while grinning, because I knew my mom didn’t like it when my dad had me talking about politics when I was five years old. I also remember going to a rally that year for McCain. Point is, I did grow up with republican opinions, but I began to really understand and evolve into those thoughts and ideas about seventh grade.

Seventh grade was a pivotal year for me. In my history class, I had an assignment to write current events. I loved to do it because I could write my opinion and it was the best feeling. My teacher could never post my current events for everyone to see, though, because the topics I wrote about were so controversial. I was fine with it because the important thing was that I felt heard. The middle school I went to sixth and seventh grade was in North Carolina. It was a Title One school and the view points of most that attended there were Democratic. It was also culturally different than anything I had ever been to. It was good for me…more about that later, though.

That year, my English teacher decided to have a debate about…wait for it…immigration. So controversial and a little heavy for seventh graders; nevertheless, it was debated. I remember researching so much and gathering as much information for this as I could, because I wanted to be prepared. Not many people in that class agreed with me and I didn’t want to look like an idiot. I wanted to make sense and convey my argument to people who would never change their mind. Let’s just say my thoughts were definitely heard. Once in that class I was called sexist because I wrote an essay on why women shouldn’t join Special Forces. It was a great year.

Seventh grade was lonely, and a lot of times I felt alone in my ways and values. Many of the students didn’t care much for school and it felt like a negative environment. There weren’t many people I could really relate to or be friends with. I learned to be proud of who I am. I was set apart from the masses, and I wasn’t ashamed. I found that you don’t have to conform to what everyone else is doing and that year gave me a voice. Everyone knew what kind of person I was. I was known for being a studious, smart, non-cussing, Christian Republican. I didn’t have many friends either, just a few great ones. I became so driven and passionate that year that I would go to school with the mindset, “Do what you came here to do: learn, make good grades, and get out of there.” I still use this a lot. It has become a part of how I think. It is when I move to a new area or when sometimes I just don’t have a lot of friends at a school. When I have my mind set on something, sometimes that’s all I allow myself to see, like in 7th grade. I was focused, and what was going on around me didn’t matter. Maybe you feel like at times that the world just is not with you. You may feel like you go against the flow, against the grain, and you feel incredibly alone in who you are and your purpose. I say go for it. Don’t change your values for the crowd. It can get really hard sometimes. Keep your eyes set, know what your after and be confident. It doesn’t work without the confidence part. In my experience, it adds perspective and teaches you that you can be your own person. Keep. Being. You. There should never be a doubt, a worry, guilt for being you because you know yourself. That’s beautiful in itself.

It’s crazy how God gives you what you need. If it weren’t for those two years, I probably wouldn’t be writing my own blog. I couldn’t see it then, in fact, I hated going to that school, but oh how I see it now. It gave me my voice and my ability to accept that I don’t have to do what everyone else is doing. Do your own thing. Sometimes by being purely who you are, you inspire others. Let God’s light shine through you. If people don’t like you for being you, then that’s on them. “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated Me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as it’s own. As it is, you not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you” (John 15:18 19). What you do is to glorify the Lord. Keep your mind on that and everything else seems smaller and unimportant. My mom says that I broke the mold when I was born. Don’t be afraid to break it; destroy it. That mold is everything that keeps you from shining your beautiful, wonderful light and being different. Be yourself and be proud because you are God’s…and for me, that’s all I need to know.

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn

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Living Real

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Rebel – a person who goes against social norms

Raw – REAL, vulnerable, undisguised, genuine

My name is Meghan Dunn and after 15 whole years of living on earth, I have made a few conclusions:

  1. God is most definitely alive
  2. Being a teenager so far is hard
  3. There is a lot of fakeness in this very real world

We are attempting at living in this world with unrealistic standards. These standards are set by people who can’t even meet the expectations themselves. It is hard to take your focus off these expectations when it seems that everyone follows them. I know, I too, am guilty of it. When I find myself trying to live up to the world’s impossible standards, I then turn my eyes and strive to meet God’s standards.

I want to give people something real. My truth, my story, and my continuing story. Although 15 years isn’t that long, that’s still a lot of life living for God. Dealing with change and getting through it is something that I have had to do my whole life, because of the military. My experiences and what I am going through is the reality of so many teens and families, and I feel the need to share.

I hope that these writings can be a sort of light in the darkness for so many lies and misleadings, so that people can come here and relate. Not only is this something for you, but also something for myself, as I am still trying to figure out this crazy, terrible, amazing world. Through God and His word, I will give you 100% real. I am not perfect, and that is what makes me raw. Sharing the rawness is then what makes me a rebel. A rebel to the social norms.

Being true about life is not a normality for most teenagers. I’ve always been the girl to speak her mind and maybe at times without thinking (which sometimes is not a good thing). I say what no one else would say and I do what no else would do.  It’s caused me to lose friends, but I’m left with the ones that really matter, and love me for my outspoken and true self.

God calls us to live for HIM; no one else. He is our creator and made you beautifully by His eye. I put all my faith into my God and know that who I am is true. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2). By being real, raw, vulnerable, and rebellious to society, we can find God’s standards, and redefine the social norms. If His expectations allow us to be happy, joyous, and OURSELVES, then we should really go by His and not the world’s. Wouldn’t that be something?

Keep it real,

Meghan Dunn

Thank you for reading, subscribing, and/or sharing. I look forward to sharing my journey with you.