The coffee shop was quiet, save for the low murmur of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine. Emma sat hunched at a corner table, her laptop open to a blank resume template. The screen seemed to mock her, each flashing cursor a reminder of how much she didn’t know. She glanced at her latte, now cold, and exhaled.

“What do I even put here?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her reflection stared back from the laptop screen, a face that had aged faster than her years. Years of moving, managing, and surviving while her husband served had worn her down. Now, with his retirement, they were supposed to finally settle, but instead, she felt more adrift than ever.

“Lost, huh?” The voice came out of nowhere.

Emma startled, looking up to see a woman standing beside her table. She was striking—not in a flashy way, but in the kind of way that made you feel like you’d just been found in the middle of nowhere. Her pin caught Emma’s eye: Proud Military Spouse.

“I’ve been there,” the woman said, her smile warm and knowing. She slid into the chair across from Emma before Emma could say a word. “I’m Ms. Veteran Affairs, and it looks like you could use a little help.”

An Unexpected Guide
Emma blinked, unsure whether to be annoyed or relieved by the intrusion. Something about this woman’s presence felt... steadying, like an anchor in a storm.

“How did you know?” Emma asked quietly, her voice cracking slightly.

Ms. Veteran Affairs tilted her head. “Because I’ve seen that look before. It’s the same one I had when I sat in a coffee shop just like this, trying to figure out what the heck to do with my life after service.” She gestured toward the laptop. “Writing your first resume?”

Emma nodded, feeling her cheeks flush. “I don’t even know where to start. It’s like… I’ve done so much, but none of it feels like it matters in the civilian world.”

Ms. Veteran Affairs leaned in, her voice soft but firm. “Oh, it matters, Emma. Every single thing you’ve done—raising kids during deployments, coordinating moves, building communities—it all matters. The problem isn’t that your experience isn’t valuable. It’s that no one’s taught you how to tell your story.”

Seeing the Value in the Journey
Ms. Veteran Affairs pulled a notepad from her bag, flipping to a clean page. She wrote down a few words: Adaptability. Leadership. Problem-Solving.

“Let’s break it down,” she said. “Tell me about a time you had to solve a problem on the fly.”

Emma hesitated, then said, “Well, during one of our moves, our housing fell through at the last minute. I had to find a temporary place, manage the kids, and still keep my husband in the loop while he was overseas.”

Ms. Veteran Affairs grinned. “That’s logistics, communication, and leadership all rolled into one. You see what I mean? These aren’t just life skills—they’re career skills.”

For the first time in weeks, Emma felt a spark of hope. “I never thought about it like that.”

Discovering a Path Forward
They spent the next hour unpacking Emma’s experiences, turning her stories into skills and her challenges into qualifications.

“What did you love most about your time as a military spouse?” Ms. Veteran Affairs asked.

Emma thought for a moment. “I loved planning community events on base—bringing people together, solving problems, making life easier for everyone.”

Ms. Veteran Affairs’ eyes lit up. “There it is. You’ve got a knack for organizing and connecting. That’s project management, nonprofit work, even HR. Have you ever looked into those fields?”

Emma shook her head. “I didn’t know where to start.”

“Well, now you do,” Ms. Veteran Affairs said, sliding the notepad across the table.

Emma’s Career Path Checklist

A Moment of Renewal
As the conversation wound down, Emma felt a weight lift from her chest. The blank resume on her screen didn’t seem so intimidating anymore.

“Thank you,” Emma said, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

Ms. Veteran Affairs stood, smoothing her coat. “You’ve always had what it takes, Emma. Sometimes we just need someone to remind us of our own strength. You’ve got this.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving behind a notepad full of notes, a heart full of hope, and a latte that didn’t taste quite so cold anymore.

Discussion Questions