The Moment Before

Marcus stood in the parking lot of a bustling downtown office building, clutching his résumé in one hand and a fraying leather briefcase in the other. His reflection stared back at him from the glass doors—trim, squared shoulders, crisp tie. He looked the part, but inside, he felt like an imposter.

It had been two years since he left the military, yet every step toward a new career felt like walking in sand. He missed the structure, the clarity of purpose, the camaraderie of his squad. Civilians spoke a language he couldn’t quite grasp, one laced with corporate jargon and unspoken rules.

As Marcus paced the lot, rehearsing answers to questions he feared he wouldn’t understand, his phone buzzed with a notification from his bank. His stomach sank. A red warning: Account balance dangerously low.

The doors loomed larger. He wanted to turn around, to run back to the safety of his truck and drive away, but the weight of his family’s needs pressed him forward. He squared his shoulders, muttered a quiet, “You’ve been through worse,” and pushed the doors open.

An Unexpected Encounter

The interview was a disaster. The hiring manager barely glanced at his résumé, and Marcus’s answers felt clunky and out of place. When asked about his experience leading teams, he stumbled trying to explain how commanding a platoon in Afghanistan translated to managing office projects. The manager’s polite smile felt like a dismissal, and when the handshake came, Marcus knew he wouldn’t get a call back.

On his way out, head hung low, Marcus barely noticed the woman standing by the building’s entrance. She was handing out brochures to anyone willing to take one. A flash of her name tag caught his eye: Ms. Veteran Affairs.

“Rough day?” she asked, her voice warm but perceptive.

He stopped, startled by her directness. “Something like that,” he admitted.

“Let me guess,” she continued. “Job interview. They asked for ‘relevant experience,’ and you couldn’t figure out how to make leading a squad sound like running spreadsheets.”

His jaw dropped slightly. “How did you—”

“Let’s just say I’ve seen that look before.” She smiled, handing him a card. “Come to our workshop tomorrow. I’ve got a feeling you need this.”

The Workshop

Marcus wasn’t planning to go, but the card sat on his dashboard like it was taunting him. The next day, after dropping his daughter off at school, he found himself driving to a small community hall.

The workshop was packed with veterans in various stages of transition. Some wore suits, others jeans and t-shirts, but all carried the same uncertainty Marcus felt. Ms. Veteran Affairs stood at the front of the room, radiating confidence.

“Let’s talk about confidence,” she began. “Because I know every single one of you has it—buried under doubt, bad interviews, and the nagging feeling that you’re starting from scratch. But let me tell you something: you’re not starting from scratch. You’re starting from experience.”

She paced the room, her voice commanding but empathetic. “You just need to learn how to tell your story in a way they understand. Let’s start with a checklist.”

She clicked to the first slide:

Marcus furiously scribbled notes. As the session continued, Ms. Veteran Affairs walked them through mock interviews, crafting personal “elevator pitches,” and networking strategies.

The Turning Point

Over the next few weeks, Marcus applied what he learned. He revised his résumé, practiced interviews in the mirror, and even joined a veteran mentorship program Ms. Veteran Affairs recommended.

His second interview was different. This time, when asked about his leadership experience, he confidently described organizing complex logistics during missions and ensuring team efficiency under pressure. The hiring manager leaned forward, intrigued.

When the call came offering him the position, Marcus felt a surge of pride. He hadn’t just gotten a job—he’d regained his confidence.

Paying It Forward

Months later, Marcus stood at the same community hall, but this time as a guest speaker. Ms. Veteran Affairs smiled from the back of the room as he shared his story with a group of new veterans.

“You’re not starting over,” Marcus told them. “You’re starting with more experience than most people ever get. Don’t forget that.”

After the session, Marcus approached Ms. Veteran Affairs. “I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he said.

She shook her head. “You’d have found your way,” she replied. “I just gave you a map.”

The Message

Marcus’s journey is a testament to the power of guidance and resilience. With the right support, veterans can not only navigate the challenges of the workplace but thrive in it.

So, if you’re feeling lost in your transition, remember this: You’re not starting from scratch. You’re starting from experience.

Discussion Questions