When Battle Buddies Become Sisters and Then Drift Away

When Battle Buddies Become Sisters and Then Drift Away...

Sister, I never thought I’d feel this far away from you again. We’re both stateside now, no uniforms, no formations, no deployment orders. Yet somehow the distance between us feels wider than when oceans separated us. Once upon a time, we stood shoulder to shoulder in boots and camouflage. Today, we stand in different circles, living different lives, and my heart is still trying to catch up with that reality.

I remember how we started: two “battle buddies” who quickly became more than just names on a roster. We survived long nights, hard training, MREs, and homesick holidays together. We shared jokes no one else would understand, talked about our families back home, and dreamed out loud about what life after the military might look like. Somewhere along the way, we stopped being just soldiers in the same unit; we became sisters.

Now, decades later, our uniforms are packed away, but the bond is still written on my heart. You are the sister I didn’t grow up with, but the one God sent me in some of the toughest years of my life. That’s why it’s so hard to watch what’s happening now. You’re surrounded by new friendships, new scenes, new routines that bring you laughter through some of the hardest seasons you’ve ever faced. I’m grateful your frown has turned into a smile.

But at the same time, those of us who have been your friends and loved you for 30 years see something else: we see you slowly slipping away from the dreams, goals, and calling you once spoke over your life. It’s an awkward place to stand for sure. Please know we want nothing but love for you, nothing but peace and purpose. We want to support you, not control you. Yet there’s a quiet ache that comes from watching a sister fade into the background of her own life. We remember the version of you who used to light up talking about your future goals, your faith, your assignments from God and it hurts to see that light dim and your direction change.

Deep down, I also know this isn’t just about choices. It’s about grief. It’s about losses that stack on top of each other until a heart is too tired to carry them. People walking through deep grief often pull back, detach from old dreams, and drift from the relationships that once kept them grounded, in search of new ones. Grief can make a person vulnerable to unhealthy influences, unhealthy coping, and clinging to people who do not have their best interest at heart. When you’re hurting that deeply, almost anything that numbs the pain can start to look like comfort, even when it isn’t.

That’s what scares me the most not you changing, but you being unprotected in the middle of that change. I believe with all my heart that individuals wrestling with heavy loss, guilt, and heartache are at higher risk of being misunderstood, manipulated, or used. And because I love you, I can’t pretend not to see it or feel it.

So instead of lecturing you, I find myself praying for you:

"May God and His angels watch over our sister. May He shield her from every person, habit, or influence that is not like Him. May He guard her mind from lies that say she is unworthy, unlovable, or too broken to be healed. May He remind her of the woman she was created to be the one who laughed loud, loved hard, and believed God still had work for her to do. May He bring safe people around her, people who speak life and truth, not control and confusion.

Because here’s the thing about battle buddies: the mission changes, the uniforms change, the distance changes, but the love doesn’t. The bond formed in service doesn’t disappear just because the relationship has to shift. Sometimes we get to walk side by side; other times we have to love each other more through prayer than proximity. Either way, the promise remains:

I still have your back, even if I can only reach you in spirit."

To every veteran, service member, or friend reading this who is watching a “military sister” or “battle buddy” slip away; this is for you too. Check on your people. Send the text. Make the call. Whisper a prayer. You might not be able to rescue them from every bad decision or painful season, but your love, your concern, and your presence can be a lifeline when they feel like they’re drowning.

Sister, if you ever read this, know that I wrote it from a place of love, not judgment. You will always be my military sister, my battle buddy, my friend of 30 years. And even if life keeps us in different circles for a while, I’m still here standing in the gap, praying that God’s hand stays on your life and believing that the story He started in you is not over yet.

— Denise L. Townsend

From Boots To Basics Foundation, Inc.