I have been away from the blogosphere for a little while fulfilling my Weekend Warrior duties.
I was concentrating on my field grade officer course of Command and Staff.
As I thought of my absence from my stories, I realize that this is a story which needs be shared:
my life as a Marine Corps Reserve Officer.
My former Brussels blog and this current one talk about my adventures.
None of these adventures would have been possible if I would not have landed on Parris Island sixteen years ago.
When I arrived to that mythical island, I was only eighteen years old.
I was young, idealistic, and in search of a challenge.
At the end of thirteen weeks, the Puerto Rican college freshman from Upstate New York had evolved into a Marine.
The most precious gifts of this experience are the people I’ve met and places I’ve seen.
My disappointments have turned out to be a blessings in disguise.
My mistakes have proven to be lessons in leadership and compassion.
My duties have taken me to all six habitable continents.
I have seen excess and I have seen misery.
It also makes me realize that our country, with all its flaws is an amazing place to live.
 |
| With the President of Liberia |
I cannot write about my expatriation nor my repatriation without writing about my life as a Marine.
My experiences as a Marine taught me courage to start a new life and to rebuild an old one.
In 2006, I left active duty promptly after my deployment to Baghdad.
I decided to take time off to attend graduate school in Brussels and discover a world without the bind of active duty service.
Little did I know, my reserve duties would take me to the Senegalese country side, where I participated in a humanitarian assistance operation.
They took me to Haiti where I got to see firsthand the aftermath of the earthquake.
They took me to Monrovia, where I met Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, the president of Liberia and 2011 Nobel Peace Prize winner.
It took me to Seoul, where I shared soju with my Republic of Korea counterparts.
I had dinner with my Australian counterparts at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. I reaffirmed my oath as I was promoted to the rank of Major in Brussels at the NATO headquarters during my tenure as a civil servant there.
As I drank champagne with one of my Belgian counterparts after the ceremony, he said “c’est ne pas possible” to see a daughter of immigrants in Belgium become a field grade officer.
All of these experiences, among others put things into perspective.
 |
| Being Educated on True Nomadic Culture |
My combat boots and my camouflage uniform sits among my DVF dresses and my Ferragamo shoes, a reminder that although I do not wear my uniform every day, I am and will always be a Marine.
Semper Fidelis is etched in my skin and in my heart.
I am forever grateful for the opportunity to see the world and realize that we, the inhabitants of this earth are not as different as we think.
There are many countries that are very close to my heart but there is no place like home.
I believe a true patriot is not blind one.
My patriotism comes from seeing the world and being grateful and aware of the opportunities I have been afforded.
Sometimes it is hard to manage the boots and the dress, but there is a little piece of Marine I bring to my day job and to my hobbies (yes, I’ve used the Marine Planning Process when managing my former cupcake business in Brussels).
Today, I hung my boots and my uniform again in my closet, but looking forward to my next adventure in uniform.
CONVERSATION