The toughest part is never what you think it's going to be

"I don't need your social love"
-Mia Zapata

I thought the hardest part of deciding to enlist in the Army would be telling my girlfriend, my parents and my friends. True to my predictions, Jess' and my mom's reactions were absolutely heart-wrenching; my father coped somewhat "more constructively" by inviting me to a weekend-long shooting workshop he and some friends put on every year (he's a firearms instructor with the Vermont State Police) and giving me a baseball cap with Old Glory on the front and "INFIDEL" on the back. So far, my friends have been completely supportive (a pattern I really don't expect to change – I make a point of not surrounding myself with people who won't be there for me).

It hurts like Hell that [probably after the holidays] I'll be leaving these people and seeing very little of them for quite some time, but the fact is that if it weren't for their love and their dedication to me, I wouldn't have to faith in this country or the hope for humanity to be doing this. Indeed, I think the part of me that is enlisting to protect my fellow citizen got its biggest shot in the arm this July when two of my closet friends (people I consider family much more than I consider them friends) were married. I remember standing there at my station as Best Man, about shitting myself with pride and thinking "this is it, this is everything in humanity worth protecting."

But another, much more unexpected (and outright infuriating) pattern is emerging; infantilization.

In truth, I really shouldn't be surprised – I've seen the likes of Christopher Hitchens comment on it but always about the media's treatment of troops, never in the case of peer-to-peer relations. It never occurred to me that from one day to another I could be transformed from an intelligent, informed twenty six year old man into a fucking child in the regards of people who've known or worked with me in one capacity or another for years.

Maybe it's because I was prepared for them, but my girlfriends' tears were easier for me to bear than my desire to punch some of these bastards right in the teeth. I guess the "lesson" here is that while all, I'm sure, are genuinely concerned for me, I'm now finding out who respects me and who never did.


However, on a much more refreshing note, I've found the vets I've talked to leading up to this decision and since making it to be amongst the most helpful people I've talked with. No bullshit, honest advice and always an eye towards helping me out.

Now, this is a pattern I hope continues.