Still Invisible: The Untold Reality of Women Who Served

Veterans Day often brings a rush of images, words, and rituals that stir pride and pain at the same time. For many women who served, those images don’t show our faces. The ceremonies call us heroes, yet the screen fills with men marching, saluting, and receiving the mic. That gap isn’t just optics; it shapes who the public believes a veteran is and who belongs in the story. This solo message explores that tension with honesty and care: the pride of twenty years in the Air Force, the grit of serving as a single parent, and the lingering frustration of watching coverage that misses half the field. The point is not to take anyone’s shine—it’s to widen the spotlight until it fits the truth.

Service for women has always included more than rank and ribbons. It included walking into rooms where surprise lived in the eyes that met us, proving competence again and again, and leading with compassion while under pressure. It meant learning that applause rarely comes on time and that resilience is its own reward. Transition didn’t end service; it evolved it. After retirement, many of us expected to see ourselves in the national mirror and instead found an empty frame. The sting of invisibility can feel personal, yet it’s structural: media habits, old narratives, and assumptions about who “looks like” a veteran.

That is why this platform exists. Sisters in Service was built to change the story by telling it, one lived experience at a time. Interviews reveal the spectrum of women veterans: a mechanic whose hands carried the mission, a medic who steadied chaos, a pilot who shattered ceilings and then lifted others, and a mother who deployed and still led with grace. These are not exceptions; they are the rule. When people say they rarely meet women veterans, it often means they haven’t been taught to see them. We sit in boardrooms, church pews, classrooms, and PTA meetings, carrying quiet histories of command, teamwork, and endurance.

Representation is not a favor; it is accuracy. When parades, broadcasts, and campaigns broaden the lens, they teach the public to identify veterans in their communities—coworkers, neighbors, leaders. This shift opens doors to better policy, targeted care, and stronger support networks. It also repairs identity: when women see themselves on the screen and hear themselves in the story, they claim space without apology. Visibility fosters belonging, and belonging fuels wellbeing. On Veterans Day and every day, posting our photos and telling our stories is not vanity; it’s stewardship of truth. We served. We still serve. And we are not waiting for permission to be seen.