Becoming the Hero of Your Own Journey and Why a Successful Military Transition Depends Upon it.

The Value of Designing a Post-Service Life Based on Your Own Uniqueness.

During Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL Training (BUD/s), candidates are rigorously tested not only by instructors but also by their peers. Every Friday, we ranked each classmate from top performer to worst in what was called “peer evals.”

Initially, with over 300 candidates, these "peer rankings" were used to identify top performers and “award” them with leadership positions. As the class size dwindled, focus shifted to the "bottom ten," a dreaded category for any aspiring SEAL.

During my time, I spent the first dozen or so weeks ranked in the top 15%, excelling where I could, being the best teammate I knew how to be. At some point, however, over the course of 2-3 weeks, I dropped until, after one particularly challenging week, I found myself amidst the "bottom ten."

It's challenging to articulate how painful it was to be made aware of this. To this day, as I sit and write this, it brings me shame to think about. Ranking “bottom ten” consecutively usually means an impending departure from the program. However worse than that, it’s a message of disapproval from the people you care about most.

The following week, I met with an instructor whose job was to determine one of two circumstances: was there some event or series of events that took place, and thus, the student received a low ranking as a result? Or is there some sort of character flaw, physical inadequacy, or personality conflict that justifies the low ranking?

We met on the beach at night, just the two of us, the instructor seated on a rock with a flashlight shining on my face. I expected the conversation would include some sort of verbal reprimand, followed by a lecture that would make sure I understood the gravity of the situation. After that, he would build me back up, tell me what steps to take, and exactly what to do next.

As it was, he said only five words.

"How are you going to fix this?"

I provided the answer I had pre-planned, ways I thought I could repair the damage—approaches consistent with the class's top performers.

"Do that then," he said.

What I realized then, and what he knew all along, is that success in BUD/s, as a SEAL, and in life requires you to be the hero of your own story. By the look on his face, I knew I had to fix this on my own, write my own story, and become the hero within it.

If he had to tell me what to do, I was already too far gone. There would be no follow-up, no "how-to," and no course corrections. Either I would or I would not.

Fortunately, I did climb back through the ranks and graduated near the top.

Although this story is a painful one to recall, the lesson from that experience has stayed with me, shaping my approach to challenges ever since.

As I've authored this Substack and talked to more and more vets undergoing transition, I've begun to question how much value we as a community place on originality, how much we’re willing to foster own uniqueness. Regardless of what we tell recruiters and hiring managers, many of us separate feeling little conviction as it pertains to what we want to do next.

This, I believe, causes us to gravitate toward certainty, down paths taken by our peers. A logical approach, we feel the need to get “a” job and provide for our families, we want to make more money, so we follow in the footsteps of those who've done so—taking advice from people we trust.

Generally, this is what I did.

Now, I question how well this serves us over the long term. What impact does this have on our mental health? How does it contribute to the feeling of identity loss, and/or prolong our ability to find a new identity?

Most of us violated status-quo when joined the military. We embraced who we are as individuals, forgoing the traditional path of college or career and subjecting ourselves to years of rigorous training because we knew our calling was on the other side.

It also seems those we admire most professionally have done the same. Forgoing short-term satisfaction in order to arrive at a career uniquely suited for their strengths and interest.

Finding a career uniquely suited to oneself is challenging for anyone, much less someone who’s been focused on the GWOT for a decade or more. How you become the hero of your own journey is likely not something you can figure out in a day.

There’s no step-by-step. It may take months or years, or doing a job before “the” job, but that doesn’t suggest we should become the hero of someone else's journey.

To find satisfaction, fulfillment, and purpose post-military, it requires your willingness to play the long game. As you navigate transition and engage with the many assistance programs, ask yourself, “Is this my own story?” Is a career in tech, investment banking, or project management my own path? Or is it “a” path? One that will work for now.

Do the hard work. Play the long game. Become the hero of your own journey.