When I first sat down to brainstorm ideas for this essay, nothing tangible seemed to stick. Between work piling up and the pressure of school mounting, my mind felt like it was drowning in noise. I’m a veteran who has battled anxiety, PTSD, and my fair share of depression. Like so many others who’ve worn the uniform, I often find myself in a strange and unfamiliar place in life somewhere between who I used to be and who I’m still trying to become. The weight of the world mixes with the pressures inside my own mind to succeed. I decided that maybe the best topic was the one I was already living through: finding purpose after the military and rediscovering identity in civilian life.
When I took off the uniform permanently, it wasn’t because I wanted to. I had served in the Air Force for years and finally got the chance to chase my dream of becoming a firefighter. It felt like everything was falling into place a leap of faith toward something I’d always wanted. Looking back now, I see how God and the universe sometimes guide us in ways we don’t understand at the time. During fire school, I was diagnosed with a heart condition after a near-death experience while trying to put out a fire. It was terrifying and humbling. I was only thirty, a little overweight, with bad knees and big dreams, but that day changed everything. The diagnosis meant I couldn’t become a firefighter, and the trauma from that event triggered the anxiety and PTSD that would follow me for years. I was suddenly standing at a crossroads I’d never prepared for facing the end of a military career I hadn’t planned to leave.
When uniform finally came off, I thought I was ready. I told myself I’d earned my freedom no more early formations, no deployments, no inspections. But the silence that followed was deafening. For years, I’d lived by a schedule, a mission, and a sense of belonging to something larger than myself. Then, overnight, that structure disappeared. The world outside the military moved differently faster in some ways, but emptier in others. I stepped into civilian life not really knowing what to expect, but what I found instead was a quiet, gnawing question that echoed every morning: Who am I now that this is over, where do I go from here?
For many veterans, that question isn’t unique. Studies from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs show that more than half of service members struggle with identity loss after transitioning out of the military. As the VA explains, “the military gives you a clear purpose, you know your role, your mission, and your worth. Once you’re out, that framework vanishes” (U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, 2023). What replaces it can feel uncertain, especially when the world doesn’t quite understand what you’ve been through.
I remember my first civilian job as a project manager for a private company. It was a consulting firm for private construction and was a my first experience in the corporate world. Everyone was polite and welcoming, but I felt like an outsider speaking a different language. The discipline and intensity I’d learned in the Air Force didn’t translate easily here. Meetings felt unfocused. Deadlines were “flexible.” “Good enough” was often considered good enough something I’d never accepted in uniform. I realized that part of me missed the clarity of service, even the parts I used to complain about. That disconnect wasn’t just about work; it was about belonging. I eventually got let go of that company due to poor performance. Truth be told I was not ready for a position with that much responsibility and lack of structure.
The fact is, transitioning out of the military isn’t just a career change, it’s a total life reinvention. According to a 2023 RAND Corporation study, “nearly 44% of veterans report difficulty adjusting to civilian life within the first two years after separation,” citing reasons such as financial stress, loss of camaraderie, and the emotional impact of trauma or PTSD (RAND Corporation, 2023). But beneath all of it is a deeper struggle with purpose. When your identity has always been defined by service, finding meaning outside that structure takes time and patience. This takes learning new skills and acquiring a new mind set. Not knowing what career path or direction to take only adds to that uncertainty.
At the same time, I had to confront another battle, my mental health after service. Like many veterans, I carried invisible scars and wounds that no one should have to deal with: anxiety, sleepless nights filled with nightmares, moments of disconnection. There were times I felt lost in my own skin and mind. Wondering if I had made a mistake chasing that dream. For years, mental health wasn’t something we talked about openly in the military. Strength was measured by silence and how fare we can last. But healing, I’ve learned, requires honesty and a willingness to change. The VA reports that “around 1 in 5 veterans experience symptoms of PTSD or depression,” yet stigma still keeps many from reaching out (U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, 2023). I was one of them for a long time even at the cost of my own sanity.
Eventually, I realized that strength isn’t about suppressing your emotions, it’s about facing them. I started therapy through a veteran support network and was encouraged to talk to a professional. I found a therapist/ counselor and those conversations were difficult, but life changing. They taught me that vulnerability isn’t weakness it’s courage. Healing doesn’t erase your past; it refines it. In many ways, finding purpose after the military is about redefining what we think about our own self. Maybe it’s being a mentor, a teacher, a parent, or a leader in a new field. It’s about carrying forward the best parts of military discipline, honor, teamwork and applying them in ways that still make a difference in everyday life.
Today, I still miss certain things like the camaraderie with others, the mission, the clear sense of direction. I still wonder sometimes what life would’ve been like if I had become a firefighter. But I also recognize that my life now is filled with blessings I might never have known otherwise. I get to see my kids almost every night. I’m happily divorced and in love with my soon-to-be fiancée (fingers crossed she says yes). I work full-time as a project manager and am finally going to college for the first time. Looking back, I think God was telling me to trust Him when things didn’t go the way I’d planned. Transitioning out of the military taught me something powerful, you don’t lose your sense of duty when you leave the service, you just find new ways to live it. Maybe that’s what real purpose of how things turned out. It’s not about a title or uniform but finding joy in the little things in life around you and seeing where life takes you even when you don’t know where the path is going. Trust the process, wonderful things can happen if you just hold on for the ride.
References
RAND Corporation. (2023). Adjusting to civilian life: Challenges for veterans. RAND Corporation.
U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. (2023). Mental health and well-being for veterans. https://www.va.gov
Adam Benazouz is a U.S. Air Force veteran and aspiring project manager with experience in leadership and team development. He is currently pursuing a college degree while sharing his experiences navigating the transition from military to civilian life. Adam is passionate about mental health advocacy for veterans and helping others find purpose after service.