A.k.a. RCOLF
I remember exactly where I was and what I did on RCOLF (RAAF Changes Our Lives Forever) day. I was at a work lunch with Dutch veterans in a sad, neon-lit club where every piece of food was fried, with the slot machines providing some not-so-gentle background music.
Just as I was about to bite into my fish (or at least, I suspect it was fish, hard to tell), Man called. He was over the moon but tried to contain himself and said: “so… the RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force) called, they offered me THE job – I would love to take you out to dinner tonight and discuss it”. What he really was saying: “o-my-God-I-just-got-offered-my-freaking-dream-job-but-I-am-a-good-partner-and-don’t-just-want-to-take-it-without-your-blessing-I -am-barely-containing-my-enthusiasm-doing-back-flips-on-the-inside-please-for-fuck-sake-say-YES”. Okay. Wow. Breathe. Wait, how do I breathe again?
My initial reaction was genuine excitement and happiness for him. After all, if the dream of the person most dear to you in the whole world comes true, what is there not to celebrate? True love comes with unconditional support (damn you, true love).
After that, I let the news sink in a little bit. And in the evening, at a beautiful romantic dinner with lots of bubbles and without neon lights and fried unidentifiable items, it sank in a little bit more. The bubbles may have accelerated that process. It hit me what a big deal this really was…
So we did not just celebrate. We talked extensively about how it would change our lives; what the consequences would be both in the short and long term. This was not just a job. Being a member of the armed forces is a calling, a way of life, a new beginning and the end of life as you know it. Sounds dramatic? Sure, but true nonetheless. For this position Man would have to go away for a year of training, only to come home one weekend per every six weeks and with limited or no access to means of communication. It would be the ultimate relationship test. And on top of all that it would mean having to disappoint our loved ones in the Netherlands – whom we only recently promised we would be living over there again really soon.
We knew that especially the first year would be hard, lonely, frustrating, sad (or Fifty Shades of Sad). But… it would also be exciting, promising, wonderful – a way to cement our relationship and a wonderful opportunity for me to unconditionally support the person I love more than life itself. We both had full faith that this was going to work out – and we still do, as not a day goes by where we regret this decision. Man and I are optimistic people and like to think in opportunities rather than problems. And one such opportunity is a chance for me to finally start freelancing (next year) and write a blog (now)! Mipa: Military Partner – was born!
I cannot wait to take all of you on this difficult yet exciting journey! And I look forward to reading your questions, comments or experiences, especially if you are a Mipa yourself. If I haven’t properly introduced myself to you yet: enchante!
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