Before I get a flood of angry emails from Marine wives without a sense of humor, I’m fairly sure I’ve mentioned before on numerous occasions that I’m married. I was in fact a married Marine, as well. However, these ridiculous stickers, t-shirts and slogans that you can buy from the PX have always annoyed me and my wife.

I mean, it’s kind of cute, Marines let wives have this completely asinine slogan to make them feel better about the whole predicament. However, the actual act of being a Marine wife is certainly not the toughest job in the Corps. If you have found that you’ve convinced yourself that sitting around at home catching the latest DVR’d episodes of Jersey Shore is more difficult than patrolling for 10 hours in 120 degree weather only to sleep in some occupied mud-hut for a few hours before doing it all over again for 6 months; I urge you to rethink your position.

There is no doubt in my mind that the emotional hardship of being separated from a spouse is tough, but you’re still the one at home. Then again, I doubt most wives actually believe it’s the toughest job in the Corps, I’m sure it’s really more about the sentiment anyway. Marine wives are a strange creature though, many of them are completely defined by the fact that they’re married to a Marine. I’m all for women (and husbands) taking pride in their spouses job, but to allow yourself to be absolutely consumed in the “Marine Wife” title is weak-willed, in my humble opinion. You are, after all, an individual before being a wife; get a hobby, get a job, join a club, be yourself.

Lastly, I just want to add that if you’re a person that actually owns and wears one of these “I’M NOT FAT, I’M JUST KNOCKED UP” shirts, please stop. It’s disrespectful to you and the poor child that happens to be inside of your foul uterus. Also, I fucking hate those stickers that say “His Boots, Her Flip Flops, The Perfect Pair!” WTF DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

On a completely separate note, I was recently informed that a member of 3/3 committed suicide last week due to what I assume to be PTSD-related depression. This is truly unfortunate, I hate hearing about these kinds of things. If you need help, there is no shame in seeking it. I know the Chaplain is a POG and no one wants to really talk to him, but you’d be surprised how great of a resource he actually is, and how openly you can talk about things. However, it really doesn’t need to be the Chaplain at all; just talking to your friends about it can really help take the load off your shoulders.

You’d be surprised how much just saying something out loud can change the way you think about it.