From Commander to Mr. Fellows: 4 Big Things I Learned During the Transition
Overall, I would give myself a solid B minus for the transition to civilian life.
I retired from the U.S Navy in January 2022.
The journey into civilian life has been up and down and even sideways at times.
While on active duty, my wife and I kept the same agreement - we will keep doing this (serving) as long as it is still fun and it is the right thing for our family.
It is a pretty common disposition.
Always proud of our Navy roots.
Over the course of a career things can change. I remember getting to the 10 year mark.
That was a big deal.
We were half-way to joining the paycheck-for-life-club as retirees!
Ultimately as I progressed through the ranks, I began to circle certain milestones I thought were worthy targets.
For example, I wanted to attend the Navy Fighter Weapons School (also known as TOPGUN) and become an instructor.
I wanted to stay in long enough to compete for the chance to become a squadron commanding officer (CO).
I didn’t look any further than that.
Calendar Mathematics
I knew if I was selected to command a squadron I would be able to retire from the Navy at the conclusion of my command tour.
I also knew my two oldest boys would be high school-aged and it may be the right time to throw down some more permanent roots. When the end of my CO tour came I took inventory and realized I had done everything that I ever dreamed possible in a Navy fighter jet.
My take-offs equaled my landings (i.e. no crashes) and I was ready to see what the other side looked and lived like.
1 / Surprisingly Supportive
Saying “I am going to retire” outloud was a little hard for me - at first.
I wasn’t embarrassed, but it wasn’t one of those things I walked around advertising - hey I am going to retire?!
I will admit that I was a little guarded and expected some leers from senior officers and even some friends.
During my CO tour (with the mighty VFA-147 Argonauts) I distinctly remember sitting in Commander, Carrier Air Wing TWO’s office (my boss).
“Well Jeff, let’s talk about what’s next for you. You staying or going?”
“Sir, we love the Navy and will always be a proud Navy family, but it is time for us to move on.”
“Congratulations, good for you!”
Not what I expected!
To my surprise (and relief), everyone understood. They even seemed happy for me and more so for my family.
I was expecting accusations of being a “quitter,” but those jabs never came.
Photo taken just moments before my outgoing change-of-command and retirement. My Executive Officer CDR Mark Cochran (right) remains one of my closest friends.
The naval aviation community didn’t ostracize me or treat me like a cancer. It reached out and gave me a firm handshake.
My family’s priorities were front and center and it was the right off ramp for us.
Everyone gets out of the Navy at some point, and I was happy to exit with a full heart.
2 / Be a Fearless Communicator
Sometimes I can talk too much.
It is a bit of a character flaw at times, but the process of trying to find my first job outside the Navy required outreach on my part.
To my dismay, big companies were not lined up outside the gate with a bag of cash for me.
I had all of these cool combat pilot designations, successful career milestones, and leadership experience to boot. Who doesn’t want that?
Nobody lined up.
I had to hustle my resume, use my rolodex of connections, and fearlessly communicate in order to create employment opportunities.
It was a quick wake up call that nobody was going to hand me anything.
That’s a good thing!
The position that I ultimately accepted was a result of meeting “a friend of a friend” at a local Starbucks.
I knew his first name, and I knew he was a retired Air Force pilot, that’s it.
After standing in line for a minute, I looked around and saw another guy kind of looking around and asked, “Hey good morning, are you Tom?”
It was!
We grabbed our coffee, talked for an hour, and he ultimately connected me to my first boss at Raytheon Intelligence and Space.
That’s how it happened for me.
Opportunity can be disguised as a stranger on the other end of a cold call. Don’t be afraid to walk through a few sliding doors to see what happens next.
3 / Feeling Uncomfortable
I really don’t like being unprepared. It makes me anxious.
A 20 year career as an Officer and fighter pilot prepared me very well for my current job.
All of the skills I brought with me have been valuable, but I quickly realized I had a lot to learn.
I was going back to school.
My new job encompassed an entirely new lexicon and totally foreign business concepts.
I was being asked to perform budget assessments, organize customer contact plans, and align our portfolio with future strategic opportunities.
Come again?
I had no idea what or how to do those things.
I thought I was going to be telling stories over the water cooler, “So, there I was, on a dark and stormy night in the Pacific.”
This was a very strange feeling.
I had just left a job where I was very comfortable. I knew how a Navy strike fighter squadron worked.
I knew it forwards and backwards.
But there was a time when I didn’t know much about flying or how a squadron operated. I had to learn it. I kept my eyes and ears open, maintained a good attitude and bit-by-bit I started gaining confidence through experience.
I have found myself falling back on those early skills I learned as a junior pilot.
I bring a can-do attitude, look for good examples, ask questions, and give it my best shot.
Now some of those shots have been slam dunks, some have been wayward, and some have been hilarious.
I learned I was wrong to expect that I needed to know everything on day one.
Matter of fact, one of my co-workers distinctly repeated, “You are going to feel uncomfortable for a while, just get used to it.”
I am getting there.
I still get that teeth-sucking, uncomfortable pit in my stomach, but it’s passing by quicker with each small victory.
4 / Filling the Emotional Cup
Being in the Navy provided an identity that I was/am very proud of.
It provided a lot of intangible values that made me feel whole.
We are in the middle of nowhere California, serving our country with our best friends, flying a $120 million fighter jet.
Emotionally, I had hit the lottery.
It’s just different in the civilian world. Comparing the two is unfair.
I don’t put a flight suit on anymore and neither do my neighbors.
I don’t know my new coworkers as well as my former squadron mates and vice versa.
My work associates are not obsessed with smoked meats.
I wish it were different - I love brisket and talking about brisket, but it is unfair to expect the rest of the world to live like Navy families.
The Navy filled my cup for me.
Since retirement I have come to realize “normal” work alone will not fill my emotional cup - I have had to find purpose and meaning outside of my job title.
It is out there, I just had to open my aperture a little.
With a small nudge from my wife, I have found so much happiness and energy through volunteer coaching with a local youth lacrosse program.
I get so excited watching these young people experience all different levels of success.
Seeing their light bulb illuminate is chicken soup for my soul.
So it is called a “transition”, but that is just a churched up version of change.
Now I have a totally new found respect for what my wife and kids experienced everytime we moved.
Now I know what it is like to really feel uncomfortable, to start over, to try new things, to make new friends.
It’s hard.
I typically try to avoid cliches, but I recently heard a derivative that I liked:
“The grass can be greener on the other side if you water it.”
I wouldn’t say I have this whole change from active duty to civilian thing figured out, but I am trying.
I am watering the grass and I can see some green coming through.
