Trying to Hold It Together During PCS Season
Dear Dr. Monica,
We’re getting ready for another PCS this summer, and I’m honestly dreading how it’s going to affect my kids. They’ve finally settled in, have good friends, and feel confident at their school.
Now I feel like I’m about to pull the rug out from under them…again.
My oldest is already asking why we have to move so much, and I don’t have a good answer beyond “that’s the military.” I worry that all this change is going to impact their friendships, their sense of stability, and even their trust in us.
I try to stay positive, but I’m feeling guilty and a little overwhelmed.
How do I support my kids through this without pretending it’s all okay when it’s not?
Sincerely,
Trying to Hold It Together During PCS Season
Dear Trying to Hold It Together During PCS Season,
First, the sign-off. Stop trying to hold it together.
"Holding it together" is white-knuckling, and white-knuckling is the exact thing your kids will pick up on. They don't need a mother who's holding it together. They need one who's letting it be hard, out loud, and showing them that hard can be survived.
The "stay positive" script is the trap.
When we paste a smile over a real feeling, kids don't get reassured — they get confused. They feel the dissonance in the room and conclude their own gut is broken.
That's the stability erosion you're worried about. It doesn't come from the moving truck. It comes from the performance.
So drop it.
Try this instead:
"Yes, this is hard. Yes, you'll miss your friends. Yes, I'm sad too. AND we are going to get through it together. You're going to make new friends. I'm going to help you stay in touch with the old ones."
That sentence — a hard feeling and a steady plan in the same breath — is what developmental psychologists call emotion coaching.
And the research on resilience in military children consistently points to one variable above zip code, school quality, or deployment count: a parent who can name a hard thing without flinching.
Your oldest asking "why do we have to move so much?" is not a problem to solve. It's an invitation.
The honest answer — "because of Dad's job, and I know it's hard, and you're allowed to be angry about it" — is more stabilizing than any cheerful spin you could rehearse.
One more thing, because I've worn both hats here.
I've been the spouse at 11pm with the tape gun, wondering if we were doing permanent damage. I've also been the clinician sitting across from grown military kids — and what they tell me, without exception, is that what mattered wasn't the moves.
It was whether their parents told the truth during the moves.
Your guilt is not love.
Guilt is what happens when we can't tolerate the discomfort of doing a hard thing for legitimate reasons. Love is what you're already doing — staying present, asking the question, writing this letter.
Don't confuse the two.
Your kids don't need a perfect mother. They need a real one.
With you in it,
Dr. Monica
This column exists because one military spouse was brave enough to put words to what many of you are feeling.
If something's been sitting heavy — in your marriage, your career, your identity — I'd love to hear from you. Your letter might be the one that helps someone else feel less alone!
