Not even sure where to start, so I’ll just start at the end of my beginning. I got out of the military in October 2013, and it truly felt like losing my entire identity. I legit signed up as a kid, 17 years old just trying to escape everything I knew. And boy did it come with some beautiful, hard, gut-wrenching moments that changed me for life.

My first IED attack happened when I was 19 years old. It sent my TC back home to get patched up, and my gunner completely froze and was later replaced by a gunner who saved my life on many occasions. I survived, rose to the occasion and was hit again six days later. Then six days later, a third IED all in the span of 18 days. I wore the headaches…the TBI, like a badge of honor like I did my maroon beret and I had no idea how much it changed my brain, heart and soul…

Getting Out

I decided to get out right after an airborne operation where a fellow paratrooper was killed. We were among the first to test out the T-11 parachutes. Well, he ended up dying due to human error because he jumped with a T-10 chalk. In other words his parachute needed to be at a higher altitude in order to deploy, or at least that’s what we were told. Something else that rocked me to my core. I’m a truth seeker, so the fact that we never got a full debrief on his death really didn’t sit right with me. Something about him dying during training and the bullshit that followed just did it for me, I was done.

Before I joined, I was a bit of a hell-raiser, so I never actually finished high school. I got my GED, and after my dad cleared up my juvenile record, I joined the Army. I got promoted quickly but more than that, I created an identity I was finally proud of. When I got out it was stripped away from me. Nobody cared. Civilian life was about where you went to school, how much you earned and what kind of car you drove.

What’s wrong with her?
Who does she think she is?
Why is she so much?

Over and over that’s what I heard, everything about me was wrong to them…

The Culture Shock

Like most soldiers, I didn’t get any sort of disability when I first got out. One because I viewed it as weak and two, I just didn’t know any better or the depth of healing I faced ahead. I went to school, used the GI Bill and struggled busting my ass with random jobs.

When I was put in charge of a group project at school I leapt at the chance and started setting roles, deadlines and expectations. They looked at me like I was insane. Then I ran a woman’s exercise class and they complained I was trying to kill them. I couldn’t fit in and still… I didn’t seek help.

“That feeling when I first got out was something I hadn’t felt in a really long time. Like I wasn’t enough. Back to ground zero. Out of place. Worthless.”

I couldn’t even open up to the person closest to me. I truly thought being stoic was admirable and the right thing to do. I’ve always believed in only speaking about the things you can actually change, and you can’t change the past. So I started to self-medicate with marijuana.

“I had outbursts of anger and rage on the people closest to me.”

I also then decided to get Jerry, an equally crazy mini schnauzer pup who is now 10 years old and travels the world with me. I will always credit a huge part of my saving grace to him. With him, in this odd way, I felt seen. Although he couldn’t respond back, I finally wasn’t judged. Human relationships are complicated, my relationship with Jerry is simple. I didn’t have to act like I had it all figured out with him.

Shortly after getting him, thoughts of suicide started creeping in. I lost my job and found myself back at square one. I found a new job, as an elevated janitor. I went from being the youngest SSG in my brigade to this. All felt lost and when I was about to hit rock bottom a battle buddy stepped up. My friend SGT Sellers flew to Phoenix, took me to the VA and walked me through applying for benefits. Only because of him did I start down the path of healing.

Although I wasn’t even close to being out of the woods then, I started seeing a little light at the end of my very long, dark tunnel. Going to my initial appointments and saying out loud all the things that happened in the military wasn’t healing in the moment but I acknowledged it. Immediately after, I was told I needed to speak with a therapist outside of my disability appointments. Then came the medication and that slowed down my ability to heal.

Taking To The Sky

After some healing but still no benefits, I started hunting again for a more adult job and became a flight attendant. It was a much better fit, but it still didn’t fulfill me like the military did. My natural personality isn’t really suited for customer service, especially at 5 in the morning but it paid the bills. Working out was another thing that really helped my mental state and still does. I got obsessed and even set an Arizona state record at a powerlifting competition.

Being a flight attendant is what opened me up to travel. The benefits were amazing, and I started to see the world and America through a different lens. Shortly after getting the flight attendant job I started having immense abdominal pain and got treated through the foreign medical program in Colombia. I’d also like to add, for any veteran thinking about taking the leap, Colombia is a great place to start and has a lot of resources and veteran support.

Grounded

Medically, I could no longer continue working as a flight attendant and needed major abdominal surgery. I got into real estate and it went okay but my heart wasn’t in it. I still wanted to travel and after my experiences overseas I was set on leaving the country. I finally got on track financially but I had this big, gaping hole in my soul. I didn’t feel any purpose. Realness and loyalty felt very hard to come by on the civilian side.

So in 2021, I made the leap to move out of the country and pursue my dream of humanitarian work. I come from an orphanage in Sri Lanka and I felt like I had survived my upbringing, the military and my military trauma for a reason. God carried me through and I had to make that mean something.

So I founded an organization called Just A Little Helps and we serve communities across the globe in hopes of creating real, tangible change. I was only at 90%, and although I wasn’t rolling in money, I felt it deep down in my soul that I had to make a change. I truly believe we have to be the change we wish to see.

Growth

Since that decision, I have grown so much. Making connections and healing to having my organization in five different countries. I finally have a little bit of peace. I’m still reinventing and trying to get rid of the parts of me that no longer work, I still overthink but I can say that I feel proud again and that’s the biggest win for me. I’m overseas, I’m free and the mission continues.

Connect with me on Instagram: Life with Michelle

Youtube Video of my story

John’s Note

Thanks Michelle for sharing your story. I appreciate you and your service in and out of uniform. If you’re a Vet interested in telling your abroad story, reach out to me on Instagram: @John.h.davis.writer. Hit me up if you want my Free QuickStart Guide For Veterans Moving Overseas and I’ll see you out in the world.