by Thom Shea
I am and will always be a part of you, my children. My genetics flow through you. Learn what I have given. I will be in your language when you say to yourself, “I am …”
SECTION FOUR
SPARTAN WIFE CONNECTION
STEVEN PRESSFIELD, The Warrior Ethos
Leonidas picked the men he did, he explains, not for their warrior prowess as individuals or collectively. He could as easily have selected 300 others, or twenty groups of 300 others, and they all would have fought bravely and to the death. That was what Spartans were raised to do. Such an act was the apex, to them, of warrior honor. But the king didn’t pick his 300 champions for that quality. He picked them instead, he says, for the courage of their women. He chose these specific warriors for the strength of their wives and mothers to bear up under their loss.
Leonidas knew that to defend Thermopylae was certain death. No force could stand against the overwhelming numbers of the Persian invaders. Leonidas also knew that ultimate victory would be brought about (if indeed it could be brought about) in subsequent battles, fought not by this initial band of defenders, but by the united armies of the Greek city-states in the coming months and years.
What would inspire these latter warriors? What would steel their will to resist—and prevent them from offering the tokens of surrender the Persian king Xerxes demanded of them?
Leonidas knew that the 300 Spartans would die. The bigger question was, How would Sparta herself react to their deaths? If Sparta fell apart, all of Greece would collapse with her. But who would the Spartans themselves look to in the decisive hour? They would look to the women—to the wives and mothers of the fallen.
If these women gave way, if they fell to weeping and despair, then all the women of Sparta would give way too. Sparta herself would buckle and, with her, all of Greece.
But the Spartan women didn’t break, and they didn’t give way. The year after Thermopylae, the Greek fleet and army threw back the Persian multitudes at Salamis and Plataea. The West survived then, in no small measure because of her women.
The lioness hunts. The alpha female defends the wolf pack. The Warrior Ethos is not, at bottom, a manifestation only of male aggression or of the masculine will to dominance. Its foundation is society-wide. It rests on the will and resolve of mothers and wives and daughters—and, in no few instances, of female warriors as well—to defend their children, their home soil and the values of their culture.
Stacy Shea
I haven’t heard from Thom in two days, and we are all feeling the pressure of our daddy and husband being on a combat deployment. I thought it necessary to document for the family what exactly we on the home front do to connect and promote the work our SEALs—our husbands—do overseas. After Thom’s sharing of Section 3 for the kids and me, this may be the last chapter.
I have a unique perspective into the community as the SEAL Team Seven ombudsman. Our women are the very definition of strength and grace. The best relationships are those where the wife fully embraces what her husband is doing and powerfully takes that stand alongside him. I have seen my share of relationships where resentment takes over and adversely impacts the performance of our warriors and the overall experience of family. Resentments can, understandably, begin. As the wife of a SEAL, you must find a way to successfully walk the fine line of fierce independence and the ability to surrender that independence the moment your husband is home. He’s gone, on average, 220 days a year. All those romantic notions about being married to one of those uber-tough, sexy, warrior types boils down to spending much of your time without him. Thom keeps coming back to Internal Dialogue, and that’s truly where all the power lies. It ain’t nothing until I say so. What I choose to say about our lives, our marriage, and our deep and abiding connection is this:
“I am with him always, and he is with me.”
When he is on a training trip, I am inside him, loving him, encouraging him, reminding him we need him, and that every day he makes us a strong family. When he is deployed and in harm’s way, I remind him of the lyrics from a Dave Matthews song, “The space between the bullets in our firefight is where I’ll be hiding, waiting for you.”
I never, not even for a moment, feel less than an equal measure of his presence and love in my life. His support and contribution to my endeavors is strong, even on those nights when his head doesn’t rest on the pillow next to mine. He is with me always.
With that, I wanted to reflect on my life and what our family does to actively connect to my husband, our father, and our warrior.
The night before Thom left for hell was extremely tense for us all. I know leaving their families behind and going to an unknown country, taking the fight to our nation’s enemies, is terribly rough on the warriors. I know it is necessary, so our way of life back here does not have to face war on American soil. I thank God for men like SEALs who openly love to fight anyone, anywhere, any time of year. They are men who don’t fear death; they just fear dying and leaving their families behind, or having some other man step into his shoes on the home front.
I think this fact is lost on the greater population of the United States. Since I have known Thom, I have not met a SEAL who would run away from a fight, even if he knew he was going to die or the fight was not winnable. They simply need to fight. I need that in a man, and I think many of the other wives need it, too.
Anyway, the time we shared around the dinner table that night was anything but happy. For an instant, I saw sadness, and possibly fear, in Thom’s eyes. The sight shocked me. I didn’t allude to the feeling in front of the kids because I did not want them to learn fear.
Thom must have sensed it as well, and like every warrior, he lashed out with aggression by yelling at the kids for small things. As with most families at dinner time, it caused the kids to be quiet and not express what they were feeling. I did not correct him because I knew he was feeling the tension of separation, not the fear of death.
As we all attempted to cuddle around the TV, the emotions came out, and the kids were free to cry and say to Thom they loved him and needed him to come home. While watching this all transpire, I noted how that expressed need from the kids cleared Thom’s eyes and mind. He looked focused after that. His resolve was back.
After the kids were in bed, Thom and I locked ourselves in our room—our cocoon. I am not shy in sharing how sex is the easiest way to connect with an aggressive alpha-male, and Thom is truly available to sex as a way to become connected. As we lay together looking at each other, I could sense his sadness. I also knew sex would not resolve his feelings, so I used the next best thing. I spoke our connection into existence.
As my children read this, I hope you begin to understand how powerful words are for shaping and creating. Your dad and I have come to realize the words we say to each other, and the words we say to ourselves about each other, are the foundation for what we do physically and what our relationship does, too.
As I saw him begin to cry, I reached up, touched his face and said, “Thom, I need you to come back to us. Do not fear dying. It makes you weak.”
As spouses and mothers, we know what to say to our husbands and children to provide them a strong foundation of support. I knew Thom needed to hear we needed him. I knew those words would be his foundation overseas when times got tough—and times were going to be tough.
I knew I had to tell him to never have fear in his heart. I had learned from his Iraq deployment that if he were allowed to talk about fear with me, he would not be afraid.
I also know most SEALs hate weakness in themselves and others. Consequently, I drove the point home by ending it with “fear makes you weak.”
As I spoke these words, I watched the sadness fade and his eyes widen, and we spent the next half hour physically connecting.
Five days have passed since I talked with Thom. Although, as ombudsman, I would be the first civilian to get word if something happened overseas, the sense of “Oh my God,” still exists. I think writing down what wives and ki
ds go through while our warriors take the fight to the enemy is important.
The kids and I maintain a solid routine to ensure nothing at home could possibly be a distraction to Thom. My expressed commitment to Thom when we got married was to grow our family strong and provide us all with stability no matter what the world gave us. The world was now giving us some serious tension. I am committed to being the anchor for this family. If I am weak and afraid, my children will be, too. My husband will take one of two routes. He’ll shut me out so he can do what he must, or he’ll be weakened by my neediness. I’m unwilling to live either of those outcomes.
I came into Thom’s, Autumn’s, and Garrett’s lives after they were established; life in the military was entirely new to me. Thom and the kids had already completed several deployments to Kosovo, and he had just completed a tour as a SEAL instructor. Although he was divorced, I saw something in him which inspired me to create a new life for me, and for us.
I had been working as a stockbroker in Pennsylvania and had also come out of a divorce. Yet, after developing a relationship with Thom, we knew we were perfect for each other. It was even clearer to me I was not giving up my life and financial success; I was creating something bigger. Being a mother and a wife is far more important than any amount of money I would earn alone.
After nine months of “wow dating,” we married in San Diego. Garrett (then four) and Autumn (then seven) were our ring bearer and flower girl. We got married in a church with only them and my mother in attendance. I can still see them running all over the sanctuary, throwing flowers at each other and having a one-pillow fight during the ceremony.
I still recall Thom suggesting I sell everything and move in with just my toothbrush. We still laugh about it. However, I had four closets full of clothes I could not part with for any reason. At least Thom gave a thumbs-up on the Victoria’s Secret closet.
Before we got married, I remember lamenting to Thom, “What am I going to do for friends when I move? This is so different from my life in Pennsylvania.” His response, in classic Thom form, was, “You’ll have me, Autumn, and Garrett. Who else will you need?” No, this wasn’t an attempt at humor. He was completely serious.
As I began fitting in with his friends and the military, I noticed the good and bad effect families and marriages have on the careers and performance of the SEALs. Thom and I talked often about what we needed from each other that would work toward us being strong. A common theme became clear. The vital key was for both of us to expressly need each other without being needy.
This truly seemed counter to everything I had read about relationships. To me, this sounded like co-dependency, that tired, over-used word, and it seemed if we needed each other, I’d have no way out if we fell apart. Yet the formula of not depending and needing the other person was the going trend, and we both acknowledged it was the formula we used in our previous marriages, as well as the one all divorces have used.
Thom has shared with me how SEALs have an 70 percent divorce rate, yet at work he noted they are all dependent on each other. SEALs never look for a way out of the overwhelming difficulties they encounter in training, hell week, or combat … they look for a way in. We decided to need each other and “go all in, every time.” We needed to be needed. We needed one another. The need to be needed is a genetic trait within all humans, yet it’s one only a few come to realize.
As the days of no communication grew, so did our family’s resolve to do whatever we could to reach out and make sure Thom knew at his core that we needed and loved him, and that we were strong and safe. Each night, we prepared a plate at the table as if he were there with us. Each day, we shared our individual thoughts with him in a note to him on the Internet. I think it was more to keep the communication and connection alive than anything mystical. But, the hell Thom was surely in may have tapped into the ability to reach across the distance with love, affection, and prayer.
The kids and I talked each night about daddy and about what we thought he was doing over in hell. I said, “Daddy is fighting bad men and he loves it, so we need to pray he fights hard for us.” Chance would say, out loud, “My daddy is fighting. I want to be like daddy someday, so I can be strong.”
After the kids fell asleep, I would turn on my iPod and listen to the songs Thom and I had selected. One of my favorites was from Dave Matthews, “The Space Between.” Often, Autumn and I would lay there listening to the words and imagine Thom dodging bullets, knowing his family was waiting in the space between the bullets. The song and the lyrics became exactly that …
“the space between the bullets in the firefight is where I will be hiding waiting for you.”
I would literally close my eyes, and say to myself, I am here, Thom, between the bullets. It is safe here; do not be afraid.
This was our routine and our foundation. I thought it was solid until one day I turned on the TV. I just happened to be watching the news on FOX when they showed a huge military operation that was supposed to be the biggest drug seizure in history. As the camera showed images, I dropped to my knees, because I saw Thom. What the hell was going on? Why was Thom on TV? The ringing in my ears was terrible. Did I hear he was dead; did I hear the words “Special Operations Forces?”
I had to hit rewind on the TV to ensure I was not going crazy. After thirty minutes of rewinding and watching, then rewinding again, the rush in my ears stopped. He was not dead, but he was clearly in the special operation, as I had seen Thom and someone in his platoon. A wife can tell—trust me.
The amount of drugs seized and enemies reported killed were staggering. Somehow, Thom’s Task Unit and the Army Special Forces had killed over 180 enemies in three days and seized over a billion dollars in opium. I have to admit it actually made me feel sexy. I know it will be hard to read and understand, but OMG: I want that man right then!
The kids and I watched the show several times, talking about what daddy was doing. During the rewind, Chance turned to me and said, “Mommy, daddy is fighting, isn’t he?”
I needed a second to compose myself, because I realized that there’s a turning point in every child’s life where they are taught to be afraid or learn fear. I was not going to allow what Thom calls our “Internal Dialogue” to shape our boy into someone who had been taught fear.
I grabbed Chance and said, “Yes, your daddy is fighting. That is what he does. He is good at it, and he keeps us safe. Let’s all get on the computer and write him a note telling him we love him and are proud he is fighting for Americans and for freedom.” I saw the questioning look of the beginnings of fear fade to, “Oh. That’s just what he does … OK.” As Thom has often said to me, “Stacy, the small things we do and say to each other shape us.”
Several more days passed after seeing Thom and his platoon on TV. Chance and I spent a majority of our time on Gator Beach with other Team Seven wives. We needed each other. We laughed and talked about our families and how we were all coping with the deployment. Inevitably, the shit hits the fan as soon as they leave. Each of us has to humble ourselves, swallow our pride, and ask for help. Oddly enough, this condition rarely, if ever, exists in America anymore. We are prosperous. We don’t know our neighbors; we don’t need anyone. What a lie! I needed the connection with other wives, both in the SEALs and also with other women who didn’t know anything about the war over there.
However, some of the wives were really stressed out, sharing how their husbands rarely communicated with them about what they do. I began to notice these same wives worried about infidelity and trust.
Since I come from two previous failed marriages where I had complaints about the situation, and infidelity was always a concern, I also became uniquely aware of the difference in my current marriage. Oddly enough, Thom was right. The small words we say to ourselves and each other really make a profound difference in both the physical and emotional aspects of the marriage itself. I knew, from what Thom was sharing with me and the kids, that Internal Dialogue shapes everything. I saw the effec
t bad Internal Dialogue had on other relationships.
I spent the next two days researching all I could find on Spartans and their wives. Spartan women played a major role in both family and the society. I think they were the first women in history to actually have a vote in society and allowed to own land. In my readings, I found they, too, openly embraced the warrior in their husbands. Apparently, they also found sex to be a great way to harness the power of the warrior and make the connection with their men unbreakable. I am glad Thom picked the name Unbreakable to describe his life to our kids. I would call it “Spartan Wife,” but that term leaves out the contribution the husband and children make to the success of the entire family. You see, part of what inspired me to flourish in the midst of my husband being in such dangerous conditions during these deployments was the looks on my children’s faces. They were so brave and so strong, and I refused to let them down by allowing any fears I had make an impression upon their spirits or lives. After all, I had chosen this man knowing exactly what I was getting … knowing he would be gone, on average, 220 days per year, and knowing the work he chose (and was so good at) could literally cost him his life. Our babies had no such choice. Yet, I would now teach them to choose this life. They were born of a warrior and live their lives with such grace and courage. I would never let them down.
