01/20/2026
A reflective piece on learning to stand down after service.
Vulnerability in the military isnât taught as strength, itâs taught as a liability. Right up there with losing your rifle or being late for parade. You learn fast: donât show too much, donât say too much, and for the love of God donât feel too much. So we lock it down. Not because weâre heartless. Not because we donât care. But because somewhere early in our career, being open felt unsafe, and the brain took notes.
That wiring? It worked. It kept us alive. It got us through chaos, pressure, and moments most civilians will never understand.
But hereâs the part nobody briefs you on⌠No one ever teaches you how to stand down. We were trained to survive, not to soften. To push through, not process. To adapt, overcome, and move on, preferably without talking about it. And then one day the uniform comes offâŚ
âŚbut the programming doesnât.
Thatâs where the trouble starts.
Because of vulnerability, the thing we were trained to avoid, is actually the key to deprogramming.
Itâs the off-switch.
Itâs the reset button.
Itâs the part of healing that feels the most uncomfortable because it goes against everything we were taught.
Being vulnerable doesnât mean falling apart. It means finally standing down from red alert.
It means admitting youâre tired of carrying everything alone. It means realizing that strength isnât white-knuckling life forever.
The proof youâre changing?
Itâs in the small stuff. The way you catch yourself before snapping. The way you choose better habits instead of old ones. The people you let closer, and the ones you stop giving access to. The pause before the reaction. The breath before the blowup. Thatâs growth. Thatâs rewiring. Thatâs you slowly learning how to live without body armor on. And yeah. itâs uncomfortable. So was basic training. But this time, the mission isnât survival. Itâs learning how to live on our terms based on growth not fear.
Stay Toasty đ
Yance
