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Living Up to the Name "Hero"



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When I joined the military, I never imagined the weight the word "hero" would carry or how it would follow me, shaping not only how others saw me but how I saw myself. The label is complicated, uncomfortable, and often feels misplaced. Yet, it’s a word I’ve had to grapple with throughout my service and beyond.

Unlike Vietnam-era veterans, who often returned to hostility or indifference, my generation of service members was frequently elevated to hero status. This began even before deployment, often as soon as someone completed basic training. For many of us, this label felt premature and undeserved, creating an uncomfortable tension between who we were and the expectations others placed upon us.


A Hero Before I Even Served?


I didn’t know much about the military when I joined. Growing up, I wasn’t immersed in military culture or surrounded by veterans. When I began drill weekends, I was struck by how differently people treated me simply because of the uniform I wore.

At the time, I worked as a corrections officer, a job that put me in more danger daily than anything I experienced during military training. Yet, in my corrections uniform, I often felt overlooked or even disrespected. When I wore my military uniform, though, people suddenly admired me. The shift in perception was confusing and, at times, unsettling.

Even before I deployed, people referred to me as a hero—just for completing basic training. It was difficult to understand why I was being elevated for something that felt like just another part of the process.


The Pressure to Be Extraordinary


When I left the military, the weight of the word "hero" didn’t go away. If anything, it grew heavier. I felt so much pressure to do something extraordinary with my life. It was as though the world was watching, waiting for me to prove that I was worthy of the title I had been given.

In that pursuit, I never stopped to decompress or to seek the medical help I needed—mentally or physically. I felt I couldn’t. Heroes are supposed to be strong, right? They push through the pain, no matter how much it hurts or how broken they are. At least, that’s what I believed at the time. The truth is, I was trying to live up to a standard I didn’t ask for and didn’t truly understand.


How Veterans View the Word "Hero"


Over the years, I’ve talked to many veterans—those who deployed, those who didn’t, and everyone in between. Their views on being called a hero vary widely.

I use to work with a veteran who served in the Air Force but never served during a time of war. He loved being called a hero and leaned into the title, often talking about how he "fought for the flag." For him, the word seemed to hold personal significance.

For others, though, the word "hero" feels like a burden. My husband, for example, served but never deployed. He hates being called a hero. To him, it feels like a reminder of things he didn’t do—like he somehow fell short, even though deployment is entirely outside a service member’s control. Watching him and others carry this guilt is heartbreaking, especially since they served honorably and gave their time and energy to something larger than themselves.

Then there are those of us who did deploy. I can’t speak for every veteran, but I don’t recall anyone I served with particularly enjoying the title of hero. For most of us, we were just doing our jobs. Yes, I received awards for "going above and beyond," but what others saw as extraordinary felt like a natural part of fulfilling my role. The label of hero rarely fits how we see ourselves, making it difficult to embrace.


The Challenge of "Homegrown by Heroes"


This disconnect between veterans and the label "hero" extends beyond military service and into civilian life. In West Virginia, there’s a farming label called Homegrown by Heroes, designed to highlight veteran farmers. It allows veterans to place the label on their products, helping them stand out and encouraging others to support their businesses.

I love the idea behind the program. I’m always looking for ways to support fellow veterans, and giving them a platform to promote their products is wonderful. But for some, the label "hero" is a barrier. I’ve spoken to veterans who don’t mind the label, others who feel indifferent, and some who outright refuse to use it.

They don’t see themselves as heroes, and associating their products with that title feels disingenuous to them. While the program has great intentions, it unintentionally excludes some veterans simply because of the word "hero." It’s a reminder of how the label, despite its positive connotations, can complicate how veterans see themselves and their work.


Redefining Heroism


So, what does it mean to be a hero? For some, it’s about service, sacrifice, or living up to ideals. For others, it’s about the impact they’ve made on their community or the lives they’ve touched. But for many of us, the word feels like it belongs to someone else—someone braver, stronger, or more deserving.

What I’ve come to realize is that heroism isn’t about the title or the recognition. It’s about living authentically, embracing who you are, and finding ways to make a positive impact. Whether through military service, community work, or farming in the hills of West Virginia, the true measure of heroism lies in the legacies we leave behind.


Final Thoughts


Being called a hero is complicated. It’s a title that comes with expectations, guilt, and sometimes even resentment. But it’s also a reminder of the sacrifices we’ve made and the lives we’ve touched, even if we don’t always see it ourselves.

For me, the journey to embrace—or at least make peace with—the word "hero" is ongoing. It’s about reconciling who I am with who people think I am and finding a way to live authentically in the space between.

Maybe being a hero isn’t about living up to the name. Maybe it’s about living in a way that feels true to yourself, no matter what others call you.

 
 
 

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