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The 4 Stages Every Woman Veteran Goes Through After Separation (And How to Move Through Them)

March 6, 2026 7 min read

You thought getting out would feel like freedom. Instead, it felt like standing in the middle of a foreign country without a map. Research on 23 women veterans reveals a predictable four-stage process — and a path forward.

When I got out of the military, I did not have a plan. I had a feeling. I was ready for a shift — ready for something different — but I had not stopped to think about what that actually looked like or how I was going to get there. I just knew I was done. And I thought that being done was enough.

It was not.

What happened next was not unique to me. In 2022, Dr. Kimberly Hardy conducted a grounded theory study — 23 semi-structured interviews with women veterans across every branch of service — to understand how we develop our civilian identities after separation. Her data produced 343 initial codes, 23 categories, and six themes. What emerged was a four-stage theory of identity development that maps the psychological arc of transition with striking precision. When I read it, I did not just recognize it academically. I lived every single one of those stages.

Here is what those stages look like — and what I know now that I wish I had known then.

Stage One: Lusting After Civilian Life

Before you get out, civilian life looks like freedom. You fantasize about it. No formations. No one telling you where to be and when. The ability to just be.

I was there. I was ready for a shift. I did not know what it would look like — I just knew I wanted something different. So I did what made sense to me: I opened a fitness studio.

Hardy's research found that 17 of 23 women veterans described this exact longing — what she categorized as "viewing civilian life as relaxing." One participant, Jewel, a Coast Guard veteran, put it plainly: "I expected to be sitting by the pool with margaritas, often. Making some friends. Less drama. All of the above did not happen." Another, Kelly, described her anticipation this way: "Super ecstatic because I wouldn't have to report to anybody, ask permission to go on vacation, no being on call 24/7."

That was me too. At first, the fitness studio was good. I had a mission, I had structure, I had purpose. The military had trained me to execute, and I was executing. What I did not have was a business background. What I did not have was a roadmap for what happens when the initial momentum fades and the hard questions start.

Hardy's research names this stage "lusting" because it is exactly that — a longing based more on imagination than reality. You are not moving toward something as much as you are moving away from something. The military, as several participants described it, was like a complicated relationship: one veteran called it an "abusive relationship" she stayed in because it was the only thing she knew. Another said she both loved and hated it simultaneously. That push-pull is what makes the fantasy of civilian life so powerful — and the reality so disorienting when it arrives.

Stage Two: Watching and Learning

As time progressed with the gym, I felt like I was in a race I could not keep up with. I was watching everyone around me — in the community, on social media — and comparing myself constantly. It made me deeply insecure. For the first time in my adult life, I did not know how to keep up with the game. And honestly? I did not want to. But I felt like I had to, just to stay relevant.

Hardy's research describes this stage as a period of deliberate observation — veterans trying to decode civilian culture's rules, rhythms, and unspoken expectations. This stage has three distinct categories: wanting to learn expectations, observing femininity and ways of socializing, and learning to express emotions in civilian-acceptable ways. Women in this phase are not passive. They are studying. Watching. Trying to figure out how to fit into a world that was not built with us in mind.

One participant, Erica, described it this way: "So really who is Erica when she's out of that prefabricated career and thing that's already set up for her? And out of that dominant role? I am a lot more muted and I'm just trying to figure out my style professionally and personally." Another veteran described civilian life as "bizarro world" — familiar in shape but foreign in every rule that actually mattered.

I felt that. The comparison trap I fell into — watching other fitness entrepreneurs on social media, measuring my story against theirs, feeling like I was falling behind in a race I had not signed up for — that is Stage Two in action. The research confirms it is not a personal failure. It is a predictable response to being dropped into a culture with no orientation and no shared language.

Stage Three: Exploring Identity

My "trying things on" phase looked like searching for a story that matched the stories I was seeing around me. The ones that made me lose sight of who I was were the "fat to fit" transformation narratives. That was never my story. I could not compete with that kind of before-and-after, and not only did it cause me to water down my own incredible accomplishments — focusing on what everyone else was doing made me question everything.

Who am I? What am I good at? What am I supposed to be doing?

Fourteen of the 23 women in Hardy's study asked themselves this exact question. The research calls this category "Asking 'Who Am I?'" — and it describes both an existential version (who do I want to be without the military telling me?) and an outward expressive version (how do I dress, present, and carry myself now?). One participant, Leia, described the experience this way: "I almost felt like I was playing a character of myself. Like, I guess here's the role… Here's how I know I need to act. Here, let me tone it in. Let me just try and fit in with the crowd and do what they want."

Thirteen women in the study described this "playing a character" phase explicitly. Another participant, Natasha, a Marine Corps officer, captured the career version of this disorientation: "Most kids can't even name what they want to do. Hell, I couldn't. I was getting out, I had a great plan, wasn't necessarily what I wanted to do. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up anymore. I'm on my third or fourth career now."

I was there too. Trying to fit a narrative that was not mine. Competing with stories that had nothing to do with my calling. Eleven of the 23 women in Hardy's study spontaneously mentioned mental health concerns during this stage — anxiety, depression, PTSD, and the particular weight of feeling like you cannot talk to anyone about it because asking for help was trained out of us. The research does not pathologize this. It names it as part of the process. And that matters.

The danger in this stage is not the questioning. The danger is trying to answer those questions by looking at someone else's life.

Stage Four: Settling Into Authenticity

Hardy's research describes this final stage as "Living Authentically" — and she is careful to note that not all participants had reached it at the time of the study. Some were still aspiring toward it. She likened it to Maslow's self-actualization: the ultimate goal, not a guaranteed destination. The women who had arrived there described four things: maintaining their post-service military identity (not abandoning it), feeling emotionally healthy, being comfortable in how they presented themselves without performing femininity or military toughness, and realizing civilian aspirations that were genuinely their own. One participant, Dorothy, described it simply: "Now, I feel like I'm to a point again where I actually have interests and activities I like doing with my kids on a regular basis. You know, I actually work normal hours, and going out, and having drinks with friends."

It was the pandemic that finally made me stop and breathe.

Everything slowed down. The noise quieted. And in that quiet, I had to take notice of who I was becoming — and it was not who I was created to be. I did not know it in that moment. But as time progressed, I began to see it clearly: what I was doing was not in alignment with what I was called to do.

A seed was planted by my very first coach, Chris Goodman of Goodman Coaching. He pushed me with hard questions and encouraged me to stop running from my calling because of fear. And then he said something that stopped me cold:

"Have you ever considered that you are right where you're supposed to be?"

That question was unsettling. Because where I was at the time was confused, alone, unsure, afraid, insecure, and uncomfortable — even though no one around me could tell. Fear plagued me every day. No one could see it because that is not what we do as Soldiers. We face it. But it was kicking me in the face, every single day.

I was called to serve my community — women veterans. My experience with transitioning was not just happening to me, even though it felt that way. I did not feel whole. I did not feel like I was in any position to speak to anyone about what I was experiencing mentally and emotionally. So I isolated in plain sight.

But here is what I know now: you cannot lead someone through a wilderness you have never walked. Every stage I went through — the lusting, the watching, the questioning, the fear — was preparing me to walk alongside women who would face the exact same thing.

The OWNIT™ Framework: A Map for the Journey

The four stages are not a problem to be solved. They are a process to be moved through. But you do not have to move through them alone, and you do not have to move through them without a framework.

The OWNIT™ Framework — the foundation of everything we do at Beyond the Uniform — was built for exactly this journey:

  • O — Own Your Story: Stop watering down your accomplishments. Stop competing with narratives that were never yours to begin with. Your story — all of it, including the hard parts — is the asset.
  • W — Work Your Gift: You were not trained to be average. The leadership, discipline, and resilience you built in uniform are transferable. The work is learning how to translate them.
  • N — Navigate with Purpose: Transition is not a detour. It is the road. Moving through it with intention — rather than reaction — changes everything.
  • I — Ignite Impact: You were called to something. The question your coach, your mentor, or your own quiet voice is asking you is the same one Marcus asked me: Have you considered that you are right where you're supposed to be?
  • T — Take Bold Action & Thrive: Thriving is not the absence of fear. It is the decision to move forward in spite of it.

You Are Not Behind. You Are in Process.

If you are reading this and you recognize yourself in any of these stages — the comparison, the questioning, the isolation in plain sight — I want you to hear this:

You are not broken. You are not behind. You are in process.

The transition out of military service is one of the most significant identity shifts a person can experience. Research confirms it. My own life confirms it. And the fact that you are asking the hard questions means you are already moving.

The question is not whether you will find your way. The question is whether you will let someone walk with you while you do.

This post draws on research from Hardy, T. (2022). "Process of Identity Development Among Women Veterans Who Are Transitioning from Military to Civilian Life." The OWNIT™ Framework is a proprietary coaching methodology developed by Renea Jones-Hudson, Founder and CEO of Beyond the Uniform Consulting Group.

Research Foundation

This article is part of the From Service to Significance series — grounded in peer-reviewed research on women veterans, military-to-civilian transition, and leadership identity development.

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