Don’t Be a Dick

The Military Community Is Hard Enough Without Us Making It Harder on Each Other

This should not be a controversial statement:

Don’t be a dick.

Don’t nitpick people to death.

Don’t turn every conversation into a contest over who served harder, sacrificed more, deployed farther, suffered worse, or earned the right to speak.

Most people in the military community are doing the best they can.

Some are thriving.

Some are struggling.

Some are barely holding the pieces together with caffeine, sarcasm, stubbornness, and whatever thread happens to be left.

And yet, somehow, we keep finding new ways to divide ourselves.

Then we act surprised when people stop asking for help.

We Divide Ourselves Over Everything

Within the veteran community, one of the most obvious divisions is combat versus noncombat.

Did you deploy?

Where?

For how long?

Were you outside the wire?

Did you get shot at?

Were you on a FOB?

Were you “really” in combat?

Apparently service now requires a peer-reviewed dissertation before someone is allowed to say they had a difficult experience.

Families get their own version.

Active-duty spouse versus Guard spouse.

Officer spouse versus enlisted spouse.

Career military family versus one-enlistment family.

Caregiver versus non-caregiver.

Gold Star versus surviving spouse.

Combat death versus illness.

Killed in action versus died on active duty.

And, God help you, if your circumstances do not fit neatly into someone else’s preferred definition of who deserves sympathy.

None of this makes the military community stronger.

It makes people quieter.

Sometimes the Nitpicking Is Almost Absurd

A veteran receives a medal years after the event.

They are retired.

They put on the uniform for the ceremony.

And instead of simply recognizing the service, sacrifice, or accomplishment being honored, somebody zooms in on a photograph and starts critiquing the uniform.

Wrong placement.

Wrong spacing.

Wrong patch.

Wrong haircut.

Wrong something.

Five years after the event.

After retirement.

At a ceremony meant to recognize them.

Really?

Is that what we are doing?

There is a difference between maintaining standards while someone is serving and publicly tearing apart a retired veteran over a ceremonial uniform years later.

Sometimes the appropriate response is simply:

“Congratulations.”

You do not always have to find the flaw.

We Say We Want People to Ask for Help

The military community talks constantly about suicide prevention.

We tell veterans to reach out.

We tell spouses to ask for help.

We tell caregivers they are not alone.

We tell survivors there are resources.

Then someone finally says they are struggling and half the room starts determining whether they are struggling correctly.

Was your deployment bad enough?

Was your loss traumatic enough?

Were you married long enough?

Were you really a caregiver?

Did your loved one die the “right” way?

Are you technically Gold Star?

Were you active duty or Guard?

Did you see combat?

Do you have a VA rating?

How much?

Why?

At some point, people learn that asking for help means opening themselves up to judgment.

So they stop asking.

That should concern all of us.

Suicide Prevention Is Also About Culture

No, suicide does not have one simple cause.

Neither does isolation, depression, hopelessness, or the reluctance to seek help.

But culture matters.

And the culture we create around people matters.

If someone believes admitting weakness will get them mocked, questioned, compared, dismissed, or publicly dissected, they may decide silence is safer.

If a surviving spouse believes she has to prove that her husband’s death was tragic enough to belong in survivor spaces, she may simply walk away.

If a veteran believes admitting he is struggling will immediately bring out someone saying, “Well, at least you weren’t at _____,” he may keep his mouth shut.

If someone must defend their entire biography before being allowed compassion, eventually they stop trying.

That is not resilience.

That is isolation.

Stop Playing Trauma Olympics

Someone else having suffered more does not mean you suffered less.

A combat veteran can struggle.

A noncombat veteran can struggle.

A spouse can struggle.

A caregiver can struggle.

A survivor can struggle.

A child can struggle.

Two people can experience the same event and respond completely differently.

Human beings are complicated like that.

We do not need a leaderboard.

There is no trophy for “Most Legitimately Traumatized Military Community Member.”

And even if there were, I am reasonably certain nobody would want to win it.

Correct What Actually Matters

This does not mean standards disappear.

It does not mean facts do not matter.

It does not mean nobody should ever be corrected.

Sometimes accuracy matters enormously, especially when we are discussing benefits, legislation, military records, history, or eligibility.

But there is a difference between correcting something because the correction matters and correcting someone because you enjoy catching them being wrong.

There is a difference between education and humiliation.

There is a difference between standards and gatekeeping.

There is a difference between accountability and being an asshole.

We should probably remember that.

Before You Comment, Ask Yourself One Question

Is what I am about to say actually helpful?

Not: “Am I technically correct?”

Not: “Can I prove them wrong?”

Not: “Did I notice something everybody else missed?”

Helpful.

Will this improve the situation?

Will this protect someone?

Will this clarify something important?

Will this help another person understand?

Or am I just trying to score a point?

Because sometimes the kindest and most useful thing you can do is leave the minor mistake alone.

Sometimes you can send a private message instead of publicly embarrassing someone.

Sometimes you can assume good intent.

Sometimes you can recognize that somebody may be carrying far more than you know.

And sometimes you can just say:

“Good job.”

“Congratulations.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“How can I help?”

We Are Already Fighting Enough Battles

Military families deal with deployments, moves, injuries, illness, bureaucracy, financial problems, caregiving, transition, disability, grief, employment challenges, broken systems, and sometimes death.

Veterans carry experiences most civilians will never fully understand.

Survivors carry empty chairs that never stop being empty.

Families spend years navigating systems that seem specifically designed to see how many forms can be lost before someone snaps.

We do not need to make each other another obstacle.

We do not need another gatekeeper.

We do not need another person standing at the entrance saying:

“You don’t count.”

Sometimes people are doing far better than they appear.

Sometimes they are doing far worse.

You usually cannot tell from a Facebook post, a uniform photograph, a VA rating, a deployment history, a job title, or the smile they put on at an event.

So maybe we start with something incredibly complicated:

Don’t be a dick.

Give people some grace.

Correct the things that actually matter.

Let the harmless stuff go.

Stop turning suffering into a competition.

Stop making people prove they belong.

Because if we genuinely want veterans, families, caregivers, and survivors to reach out when they are struggling, then we have to create a community where reaching out does not feel like volunteering for cross-examination.

Most of us are doing the best we can.

Some of us are barely holding on.

Act accordingly.