Get Ready, get set, wait, go, and go again. the weight of anticipatory grief as a military spouse.

The Grief No One Talks About: Missing a Place Before You've Left It

Five months into my first cross-country PCS and I'm already grieving — not a departure date, not a goodbye, just the quiet knowing that here isn't permanent. Nobody warns you that the grief starts this early. At first, a new state, a new environment, a new climate feels exciting. Then the newness fades, and the grief of leaving your former friends, the house or apartment you made your home, and most times your job, gets cozy and burrows back in. The road trip from one coast to another was a sight to see, but it's a trip I've also spent several months recovering from. Suddenly the joys of long car rides became a dreadful experience, and daily commutes now feel like a pain. Then there's the attempt to find balance and routine again. Where do I get groceries? Where's the cheapest place to buy gas? What's the job market like? How far do I want to commute? Should I hang all my decor on the walls, or is the pain of taking everything down again not worth the risk? Most importantly — where do I find new friends?

Thank God for churches, literally. It's the place I know I can go to feel grounded even in the craziest of moves. Finding the right one is hard, but when you do, it's like a breath of fresh air. Quickly after finding a new church and building community through a Bible study group, I noticed that after each gathering I had begun reflecting on the fact that one day it would be my last — which, honestly, helps me cherish each moment just a little more intentionally. As a therapist, I've found it difficult to accept feeling anticipatory grief not even five months into my PCS. Wow, this quickly? I thought I'd feel it way later, closer to PCS time. Nine months out, six months out would be nice — but five months in. Whew. I kept thinking to myself — what would I tell my military clients if they described this same experience to me in one of our sessions? And as I thought about it, I realized I just needed the space and permission to allow myself to grieve, without feeling like it was too soon, or that I could only do it once I knew when I'd be leaving and where we'd be going next.

Anticipatory grief doesn't wait for a date on the calendar.

Nobody really prepares you for this — the constant feeling of being displaced, uprooted, and left without a true feeling of being home, established, or secure. I'm grateful for my husband, his sacrifice to his country, and the privilege of supporting his calling and career. But military spouses deserve so much more grace and compassion for what they give up, what they lose, and what they experience as a supportive partner to someone with an unpredictable and demanding career. I'm sad I'll miss my new friends, my new church, my favorite neighborhood route for walking my dog, the scenery, and all the other favorites I quickly built and clung to during this assignment. But that excitement for what's ahead reminds me that beginning again isn't always so bad — and there are new favorites waiting in this journey ahead. It took sitting with my own experience to remember what I tell my clients — you don't have to earn your grief or wait for the right moment to feel it.

If sitting in your grief is what you need right now, whether that's processing what you've lost in a recent PCS, the frequent absence of your spouse during deployments or training cycles, or missing significant family and friendship milestones — then do that. Community is still worth it even if you won't be at that duty station long. Vulnerability is worth it even if the people you connect with are people you'll never speak to or see again in five years. But once you're ready, do it intentionally and do it unapologetically.

If you need space held for your grief or your experiences as a military family member, spouse, Veteran, or service member, trust that I understand the nuance — and know that you don't have to do it alone. Just as important as finding the right church after a PCS is finding the right therapist — someone who doesn't just understand the clinical language of grief, but has lived the experience alongside you.

At Balanced Wellness, many of our clinicians are military spouses or veterans themselves. We know what these transitions feel like, not just clinically, but personally.

Let our team be your bedrock of support through every season, every move, and every new beginning. 

What is anticipatory grief?

Grief shows up in many ways and forms. Anticipatory grief is the kind you feel before a loss actually happens. It's your brain preparing you for what's ahead, even though it hasn't happened quite yet.

Key Takeaways

• Don't rush yourself to re-establish or plant new roots. Take your time.

• Don't allow a temporary season to cost you the beauty and adventure of the here and now.

Learn more about anticipatory grief

At Balanced Wellness, we’re here to support you. Reach out to schedule an appointment.