Just a few months ago, I walked across a sunny stage to receive my high school diploma. And, as it will be for many of you as well, those steps marked my switch from focusing on high school to focusing on college. And, well, college is expensive. “Scholarship season” for me was the third quarter of my senior year. Dozens of scholarships went live and terminated each month, and it was exhausting (but so worth it!). I managed to apply to about 25 scholarships, and I was succes

Laying the American Legion Auxiliary wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. 430,005 people lay dead beneath our feet. We are here to commemorate the one unknown. I stand with four others. From the steps, we watch the mechanical movements of the guard—the click of his heels, the measured steps, each movement precise and poised. He turns to face us. The silence deepens. He approaches. Each step he takes rings in my ears. My heart is beating out of my chest. To me, this is

Reflection: The act of taking time to think deeply about your experiences, actions, or emotions. With it being almost two months since I graduated high school and about a week until I head back to the U.S. for college, I’ve done a lot of reflecting. Not just over the past 4 years, but over my life in general and how far I’ve come. In 18 years, I've lived in 10 houses in 8 different places. I've moved 9 times. I've attended 7 schools. But most importantly, I can reflect on all

Image 1 = me and my Raider team at Fort Knox. Image 2 = me and the academic team at Washington DC. Image 3 = me and the Raider team getting recognized at the Kansas State Capitol Building. Image 4 = me leading my company in the Veterans Day Parade. Let me start by saying – I LOVED my JROTC experience! Yet, it was very different than what both me and my parents were expecting, so here’s first information about what JROTC is for those who are curious about joining, followed by

You’re sitting with new friends. Everything’s completely fine until a story comes up; a memory you don’t share with everyone else at the table, a subtle reminder that you weren’t a part of their lives up until recently. You bounce back after a few seconds, but that moment leaves a lingering feeling that you’re left out on years of memories that you alone don’t share with them, and that there are core memories between them that no amount of explaining will get you in on. These

As I pitched this title idea to my mom, she immediately answered with “no,” but still… For the past six years (and my father isn’t even retired yet), I’ve lived at Fort Leavenworth. After only a year and a half, my family moved into a quiet farmhouse just inside the city limits of Leavenworth. Many of my activities still revolved around post, but I spent most of my time in the community. I’ve participated in service events in the community, spent numerous times at the local

I never knew I could find a connection to other people like me. Then I found Bloom. My sister started first as a blog writer, then started The Bloom Room podcast with her other milteen friends. I was in 7th grade at the time, ignorant of many things in the world. I knew at the time my sister joined something related to being a military kid, but I never knew the impact this blog had on kids all over the world. As I grew older, I learned more about what my sister did by reading

They pull themselves into what they cannot see (Sea) pond, or river at all The celestial uncontrollable Which demands a Dance, this chaotic Impossible Request requires Perfection that cannot be achieved From the methodic pattern A flowing pace to Contradict, to meet The tides rising falling, Swing forward, and back Never the same stroke twice; And done again and again, The rhythm of a life Of one who doesn’t stand on stable Ground, new water is rushing and Restarts the stro

Moving can feel overwhelming, but breaking a PCS down into tangible moments by making sense of all the things you feel and experience along the way can make the journey a lot more manageable. So, what does moving actually feel like? Thinking back on my life, to me, moving feels… Like the sound of packing tape wrapping up boxes Like the smell of cardboard wafting through an empty house as we construct cardboard box forts Like the beautiful sights of passing scenery on a long

The following essay is the first place winner of our 2026 Month of the Military Child Writing Contest. The theme was "The Beauty of the Military Child Experience." Congratulations to Rachel R., a high school freshman! My dad (a U.S. Naval Academy graduate with 20 years of service) has something he always tells me to remember: “Who deserves the truth?” When he retired, adjusting to civilian life in Dallas, Texas, was excruciatingly painful. After moving 8 times in 15 years of

When I was about 8 years old, my family got stationed in Seoul, South Korea. As many moving stories go, my parents had been almost positive that we would be sent somewhere else, such as Florida. Even now, I can vividly remember looking at houses to buy there with my dad. As you can imagine, our orders came as a complete shock, but the two years we spent in Seoul were some of the richest and most interesting of my life. Even as a kid, I learned so much and immersed myself in a

I grew up between time zones, measuring years in PCS, learning that “home” could be a mailbox I learned to stop checking. I became fluent in starting over, new hallways, new faces, new versions of me introduced like I had always been there. Now I’m eighteen, standing at the edge of something louder than moving trucks, where goodbyes don’t come with return dates and I can’t follow behind anymore. They call it becoming an adult, but I still carry every place I left like stamps

Around two months ago, I found out that I would be leaving my current station of almost three years and moving back to my previous station this summer. This would be my first move after my dad’s retirement, and this news excited me—the thought of returning to a place I was so in love with, leaving my small school, and getting to reunite with my friends again. However, I recently realized that this would be my last move before I go to college. Never before have I had my futur

My family has been lucky enough to be stationed in Singapore for about 5.5 years total, across two tours, and we absolutely love it. Being stationed here is definitely different from other OCONUS duty stations, but there is so much that Singapore has to offer, especially considering it’s only about the size of Chicago and showing up on a map like a little red dot. Installation Amenities “It’s not a base, it's a place” is something we commonly say over here because of how sma

“121!” Nina shouts out another trail marker, but her originally peppy, satisfied tone has worn off into a blunt statement of fact. One marker in 10 minutes, yep, seems about right. This hike will never end. My stomach is pinched by the hip strap of my bag that I pulled too tightly to myself, my shoes get increasingly heavy with every “not–so–dry” patch of mud I step into. I’d rather just stop here and sleep, there’s no point to this anyways. Maybe we took a wrong turn, I hav

In a life with so much change, so much inconsistency from year to year, living on base has been my rock. From year zero to fifteen, I always knew that, no matter what, I could come back to base at the end of a long day, safe from any problems in the outside world. Living on base was my ultimate refuge, the only constant between each new duty station. No matter how new or uncomfortable the outside world looked from year to year, I always had the Commissary, my favorite Freedo

When was the last time you compared yourself to someone around you? Comparing yourself to other people isn’t always a bad thing. Comparison can be constructive if it motivates you to do better, but more often than not, it can become a dangerous habit that must be broken. Comparing myself to others is something I personally struggle with, so I understand how it feels. I understand the discouragement it can bring. It's easy to fall down a rabbit hole of comparing yourself to ot

Being a Navy kid, I’ve been around or in water close to my entire life. My family was commonly found strolling across the beach in Coronado, or visiting the Ballard Locks while living in Seattle, and there was hardly a Friday afternoon while living in Singapore where we didn’t go to the pool after school. What's weird, though, is that I am most definitely a homebody who loves to crack open a nice new book. Rather than being outdoorsy, I'm "outdoorsy- ish ." When it's nice out

There is a proverb that states, "When one door closes, another opens." This may seem like a simple saying, but it has a much deeper meaning than many people imply. Growing up, my parents always made sure I was being active and doing something with a team. I did soccer, dance, and gymnastics as a kid. I ended up not loving soccer and quit altogether. When I was about eight years old, my parents had me make my first big decision that I can remember. I had to choose between dan

At my school, in choir, we do a "song of the day." Every quarter, each person has to present a song and speak about it. It could be meaningful and resonate with you. Or, it could be a fun song you really enjoy. Whatever it is, you talk about it, and then that is the first thing we listen to in class that day. So far this school year, if a song has stood out to me, I wrote it down. Usually, it was a song I recognized but didn't know the name of or forgotten about it entirely.