Transitioning from the military to civilian life is no small feat. I remember countless hours of reflection and numerous hours with friends, family, and interested mentors as I navigated my path. I started out of the gate focused primarily on creating what I called Chapter 1 of Career 2.0. Living in Silicon Valley at the time, maintaining a revenue stream was priority one. I knew that the mental aspects of letting go of my 32 years in uniform would be a challenge, but that was a challenge for another day. As time went on and my retirement date drew closer, I realized that it was impossible for me to separate the landing well with the letting go. I had to address both simultaneously. It was then that I realized how beautiful constraints and restraints can be. 

I have often struggled with the difference between constraints and restraints. Constraints are things we must do, while restraints are things we must not do. Both are limitations and can either be self-imposed or imposed upon us by another authority. Military professionals live a life filled with constraints and restraints to the point where they become part of how we think and behave. When it’s time to leave service, there are very few that transfer with us to civilian life. It is this freedom to maneuver that gives many of us reason for panic, especially when well-meaning people ask us, “What do you want to do now?” That rather simple question has no simple answer, but the potential answers begin to present themselves as we develop our personal list of constraints and restraints. Clarity and focus ensue.

For me, my constraints/restraints included (in priority order) geography, compensation, travel requirements, opportunity to learn, the potential for direct impact, and organizational culture. 

Geography – First and foremost, my wife and I made a promise to our son that we would stay in our current location long enough for him to graduate high school. Framed as a constraint, we must not move outside the school district. Framed as a restraint, we must stay within the school district. Either way, it was helpful for me to know that I needed to be looking to join a team that would not want me to move. The gift of a geographical limitation is truly that, a gift. At least it was for me. Saying that I would move anywhere for the right opportunity would prove overwhelming and unhelpful in the decision-making process. 

Compensation – I’d like to think that compensation wasn’t a factor. But when you make a promise to remain in one of the most expensive places to live, it moves up on the list of must-haves. Like many veterans, I initially didn’t quite understand the not-so-subtle difference between salary and compensation. That is a deeper conversation for another day, but having a minimum compensation requirement in mind is a must. Where it falls on the list of constraints need not matter (it would be much lower on mine if it weren’t for “The Promise”), but it deserves a place on the list. I will note that I ultimately chose lesser compensation because each of the below constraints were met. 

Travel Requirements – Some people love to travel for work. Others not so much. I have evolved from the former to the latter over time. One of the reasons I left the military when I did is because I wanted to be more present with my family. I placed the geographical constraint as #1 for a reason. I was not going to live my life on the road and instead committed to myself that I would not take a job that required me to be absent from my family for more than one business trip a month.  

Opportunity to Learn – As someone who loves to learn new skills, doing something different from government service was imperative. I loved my years of service and had no interest in continuing to serve in the same ways or within the same teams. I may return to government service someday, but not for Chapter 1. Having served for as long as I had, I knew there was a good chance that I would be typecast and assumed that the chances of finding quick employment diminished the further away I got from the world I knew. But finding a team that would value me as much for what I could learn after I was hired as they would for what I was already capable of doing mattered a great deal to me. I wanted a team that would invest in my potential and help me become something more than I already was. Life in the military conditioned me to a shared commitment to continual improvement. I was not willing to give that up. 

Potential for Direct Impact – Another limitation that I put in place was that I needed to be able to have a visible (to me) and direct impact on the team I would join. Over the years I have enjoyed positively impacting the lives of my teammates, helping to inform the trajectory of the “business”, and being able to point to things that happened in part because of my contributions. This realization helped me to understand that I did not want to be an advisor, consultant, or contractor. I wanted a seat at the table no matter how small that table might be. I wanted to belong, be valued, and contribute in meaningful ways to not only today’s company business but the future.

Organizational Culture – There is a great deal of emphasis placed on organizational culture, and rightfully so. I have spent much of my career amplifying, designing, and changing cultures. Some cultures are great and deserve amplification. Others don’t exist and designing one is a must. And others are in need of change. There was no chance that I would join a team that was in need of cultural change and I didn’t want the added challenge of designing a culture as part of my first chapter in Career 2.0. Therefore, I was only interested in joining a team where creativity, learning together, service, and humility were core values. The thing that I found a bit challenging in the process is that many organizations still don’t state their values or communicate their culture. Trying to tease that out over the course of the interview process isn’t always easy. I have found that one indicator is dress code, official or otherwise. The more ties and coats, the more likely it wasn’t a place I wanted to start Career 2.0

Having these criteria firmly established took much of the emotion out of choosing which offer to take when that time ultimately came. It also kept me from drifting away from my stated priorities when considering a variance of roles at different companies. To this day, and thanks to my many mentors and coaches, I feel like I stuck the landing. Focusing on constraints made all of the difference.

I both mentor and coach many people as they transition from military service. And I like to start the conversation with “What won’t you do?” as opposed to “What do you want to do?” Neither is an easy question to answer out of the gate, but through thoughtful reflection properly framed around constraints, restraints, and other limitations, clients seem to ultimately answer the want to question by exploring the won’t do version. 

  • What constraints/restraints do you have?
  • What won’t you do (next)?
  • What do you want to do (next)?

1 thought on “Military Transition: Clarity through Constraints

  1. You will never be a civilian, you will allways be an ex military man.

    Regards,
    Graeme Heritage, Ex Cpl Australian Defense Force.

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