Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree is a beautiful story of a boy and his favorite tree that I have read too many times to count. The tree is happy, providing endless amounts of apples and a place for the young boy to play and be joyful.
As the boy grows older, he returns to the tree and asks for more and more from the tree. She gives him her branches to build a house, her trunk to build a boat, and eventually, all that is left of the steadfast tree is a sad stump. The tree gave the boy a place to play, snacks, shelter, and a way to escape his adult life. But what did the boy give the tree? She had happiness for a while but ultimately gave all she had to offer.
Silverstein’s words create a stunning image of what selflessness and giving should look like. I recently read this children’s parable with my five-year-old son, and something hit differently about this gentle story. It took me a few days to put my finger on it, so I reread it independently.
I asked myself, why does this story feel so familiar? I needed to dive into what was stirring inside me. And then I understood that The Giving Tree is me.
I am the tree.
The relationship between the boy and the tree paralleled my relationship with the U.S. Military. In the bigger picture, the boy is the service branch, and the tree is the military spouse.
At the beginning of my military spouse career, it was made clear to me that my role was to be supportive. Stand behind, not beside. My job was to ensure that my servicemember’s academic degrees and professional schools were complete and that he had nothing to worry about while he was TDY or deployed. My role was not to follow my passion for education. I happily served the squadrons and installations we were assigned, raised children, and built a home. I was the one to give unconditionally- just like the tree.
A little over three years ago, I stopped. I realized just how tired I was from giving. I realized that I had almost completely lost my identity. I also recognized that if this military career ended abruptly for any reason, I had nothing to fall back on. I could not provide for my family, and nothing was setting my soul on fire. I had events and obligations that filled my time. I knew what I was passionate about but not how to execute those passions without upsetting the status quo. After exploring my feelings about my relationship with the armed services, I knew others had to resonate with feeling this way, too.
Times have changed since I was a green military spouse, and I hear on repeat from spouses they are tired of being the tree that roots and provides shelter, escape, and snack. Spouses want to keep their identities and not be left as the stump – depleted and tired.
Actionable change has been taken to improve the quality of life for military families. I will not dispute that. To those changemakers, I am genuinely grateful for their work and am proud to know and have worked alongside so many of them.
If there is any wisdom I can pass on to the new military spouse, I say, I see you, and you are not alone. Do not give yourself up. Keep yourself engaged in the pursuits you have always dreamed of. It may be a challenge, but I promise you, one that is worth fighting for.
You can choose to selflessly serve alongside your service member AND maintain your identity and purpose with boundaries. I implore you to start – or continue – this conversation with your service member to find a balance of sustainable giving to the needs of military life while preserving your passions and goals.
As for the boy who takes and takes – service branches themselves – military spouses and the military families they represent cannot be viewed as an unlimited source of service and sacrifice. We must recognize that spouse ‘retention’ is fundamentally linked to the continued service of the military member. Like the tree who gave all of herself, spouses are giving their all. Together, we can write an ending to this story that changes the narrative.
