Courage is fear holding on a minute longer. ~ General George S. Patton.
Why would a combat veteran fear starting her own business after more than two decades of seemingly successful military service?
There have been many significant historical events that occurred during the more than two decades I served on active duty; the two biggest ones were the Pesian Gulf War, Operation Desert Storm in 1991 and Operation Enduring Freedom in 2006-2007. I was the spokesperson for all of NATO’s 32 contributing forces. So, after transitioning out of the military, what kept me from starting my own business? The simple answer is fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the unpredictable. Most certainly, fear of failure. And definitely fear of all the numbers that are a significant part of running a successful business. I mean, I flunked out of precalculus in college, the first of many mathematical steps toward a business degree. Those efforts were then directed toward something more in line with my natural strengths, communications. Not the technical communications, but the personal one. As a communications degree aligns with military public affairs, coupled with the fact my father was a Korean War-era veteran, and that I had two older brothers who had also served in the Air Force, that was the professional path I chose.
Raising my right hand to protect and defend took me first to Eaker Air Force Base, near Blytheville, Arkansas and within a year, to Desert Storm. This was 1991 when the 24-hour news cycle was in its infancy as the Cable News Network, CNN, brought news into America living rooms whenever they wanted it. At that time, 24 hours of perpetual news seemed totally radical since the market had been dominated by only three major networks bringing news to you on their schedule. Media relations became exponentially more intense and demanding and as public affairs assets, we were charged with protecting classified information while sharing factual information to the public. Telling stories. Connecting troops with Americans at home hungry for information about what was going on.
Most of my fellow airmen had already deployed in the spin-up to Desert Storm, Desert Shield. The buildup has taken 6 months and a few weeks into actual troops in contact, we were tasked to deploy our B-52s to Royal Air Force Fairford, England; as I deployed to Fairford, England where we subsequently flew B-52s over Baghdad. My wing, the 3rd Wing, Eaker Air Force Base, Arkansas, became the 806th Bomb Wing (Provisional) A bright-eyed junior second lieutenant, I was on the first plane that landed at Fairford and began running operations to communicate internally to those deployed to the previously moth-balled base. It was bitterly cold in England that year and snowed more than it had in three decades, since the Big Freeze in 1962/63. Five days after receiving orders, we opened the base back up, and launched B-52s against a snowing backdrop that is still clear in my mind. I remember watching them as they generated one after the other, and distinctly remember the pride in my heart to see them go.
Fifteen years later, I deployed again but this time to Kabul, Afghanistan where I served as the media relations chief and spokesperson for NATO’s International Security Assistance Force. I left my two very young daughters, one who wasn’t even one year old, with my very capable husband and took my turn in a combat zone. Oh, I was afraid. Petrified actually. Our training had focused on the very real new threat, an improvised explosive device (IED) that could, and did, rip servicemembers to shreds and either ended their lives or drastically altered them. I had qualified on my M-9, conducted my chemical weapons training, and packed my go-bag. I kissed my husband and very young girls, both under 3 years old at the time, and hopped on a plane from Ramstein Air Base in Germany, landing at Bagram Air Field, Afghanistan two days later.
We drove in a convoy from Bagram to NATO’s ISAF Headquarters in Kabul about 40 miles away; based on what I heard and read, every piece of trash blowing in the wind or oddly stacked rocks on the side of the road could have been an IED. I recall one significant evening when we lost a helicopter down in Helmand Province, and one of the crewmembers was also on our public affairs team, on board to photograph and videotape the mission. Along with my fellow communication warriors, we had to compile another release about a service member’s death, protecting their identity until the next of kin were notified. In this instance, though, it was someone we actually knew in person. We fielded countless calls about the nature of the incident and whether it was engine failure (it was), or if the Taliban could take credit for the shoot down (they couldn’t). For the next few days, we fought in a very public way, protecting information that might compromise future missions while revealing those facts we could, in order to demonstrate the viability of that mission.
Fast forward 5 years later and I took the leap to leave the only professional life I knew, a life that included moving every 2 to 3 years, new and bigger jobs, often longer hours, under intense scrutiny, and hung up my uniform for the last time. After facing that fear, and working in the not-for-profit arena for a while, I am taking the risk once again and have launched The Virago Circle. Virago means female warrior or heroic woman and that is who I am; it is a circle because it is a group that is inclusive of many while providing a manner in which we will grow. I envision a business that supports clients in much the same way I did our highest military leaders; with honest, objective, strategic, public relations counsel. While I second-guess myself just about every day and this blogpost is certainly showing my vulnerability. I have not completely overcome my fear. I have embraced that fear and am forging ahead with them all in tow. Despite that or perhaps because of it, I know I will find some measure of success in the next direction my professional life takes.
I’ve read a lot about Brene Brown’s research on vulnerability and have watched her popular Ted Talks onon just that more than once. Brene is the “storyteller researcher” who I find to be quite inspiring and while I never asked for it, she has given me permission to admit my vulnerability and face my fear. Brene has said, “Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is just show up.”
I’ll show up and I’ll bring my courage.