On Being a Federal Government Employee: Fork in the Road

April 27th, 2025.

As I sit here on the Metro North Railroad next to my husband on this very sunny, very windy Sunday, late April morning, I’m filled with wanderlust and a sense of possibility. As we speed by I notice trees, mountains, houses, cars, waterways, docks… so many ways of living and modes of travel.  

The subway this morning, leaving New York City, back home to Connecticut

My heart aches to experience it all. I sit and watch, feeling stuck where I am; on a moving train that is going too fast. I am unable to really see, experience or touch any of it.  Destination known.

I marvel at how at any stop I could really get off. How I could take another train to another destination and experience something new. I could…. Why don’t I? Why haven’t I?  

I am a government employee.

A Fork in the Road.  

That is the title now infamous email sent to government employees on January 28th. It quite possibly could open doors, new roads, endless possibilities. However, the doors and possibilities are soured by the ruthless ways civil servants have been discussed in the past few months. 

I am government employee with a possibility of taking early retirement. I am 49 and was not planning to retire for a while. But the possibility cannot stop lingering on my mind. I want to see the world! I want to get out from under the grind, off the crazy train. The past few years, but particularly the past few months have dampened the passion of flames I once had for work. It was long burning down, but the new administration has left but the smallest of sparks still attempting to burn.    

I have given my entire adult life to the United States government. At 18 I went into the Coast Guard. At 22, I continued into the active reserve pool and became a weekend warrior while raising two babies. At 26, I became a civil servant where I have worked ever since. 

I’ve been on a train, on the path set out by many. Get an education, get a job, start a family, get the bigger house…. 

In the past 31 years with very little help from the supposedly educational funds and benefits that tempted me into the military in the first place I obtained a Professional Secretarial Certification, a Bachelors in Business Administration, an MBA, and a certification Healthcare Analytics. 

There were countless other trainings I took through work or on my own. Regardless of where I took these trainings, I immediately gave everything I learned back to the government through my work. Up to and including teaching yoga. 

I chose the government  because like many undiscussed Americans, particularly second generation Americans, I grew up not have basic securities met. We always had food, though food security was something my parents often struggled with. There were enough clothes and enough help to feel ok. We did not have healthcare and my parents did not have jobs with paid vacation or sick time. Retirement is still out of the question for my 74 year old father. My mother passed away at 49, in part to smoking; but more in part to not having access to healthcare. 

I chose the military for the benefits. Paid education, vacation days, and healthcare. The military also seemed as if it were fair and just, that there were rules that had to be followed and consequences for breaking those rules. My home seemed to be a place where there were no consequences and no rights for women or children. As a teenager with looming uncertainty of my future, the military recruiters at the tables stationed around my high school looked healthy, happy and secure in themselves. I wanted that for myself too. 

I still don’t know if recruiters purposely mislead or they themselves do not know, but many of the things I was told were only partial truths. Healthcare is not for life unless you are destitute once you separate from the armed forces. The Montogomery GI Bill hardly paid for a semester let alone an education. I was not able to apply for specialty school right out of bootcamp as an E-3, a benefit I personally took advantage of because I had spent 3 years in junior ROTC. The immediate bump from E-2 to E-3  wasn’t a huge benefit, but the one that likely made what was a tough decision at the time for me. A decision that ended up being a very good one for my life.

Swearing into the United States Military at MEMPS in Brooklyn NY August 9, 1994

From that time, and into my career, and until this very day; there were spouted benefits. Benefits that lured me in, but were not what they seemed to be. Benefits that few who are the gatekeepers to obtaining these benefits even seem to know about. 

My earliest experience was the lack of knowledge at my first duty station on being an E-3. Then seemingly gregarious barriers to putting my name on a wait list for specialty school. I did everything I was supposed to as quickly and efficiently as I could. It seemed to surprise people that I had the oomph to push through the barriers and keep pressing until I got the answers I was seeking. It seemed unnecessarily difficult, but that was only the start of many years ahead of pretty much the same. 

I met and married my first husband who was also in the military at the age of 19. We had no plans of having children anytime soon, but I did know about the benefit to females of taking two years off to raise a child and coming back to finish any required time that was owed to the government. 

When my husband and I were re-located and co-located from the west to east coast, the new dispensary that I was assigned did not carry the birth control pill I had been on for years. I was prescribed a new pill and immediately experienced unwanted side effects.  When I went to the dispensary to discuss these issues; they took some bloodwork to ensure I was not pregnant, prescribed a new type of pill, and asked me to not take any pills until my next cycle. 

My newlywed husband and I were careful, but obviously not careful enough because I never did start that next cycle. I was unintentionally pregnant at 20 years old. My new duty station (which was for the first time in my career on land [opposed to on ship]) helped me to apply for the two year program to raise a child. The administrators and I could not foresee my request being denied because I owed 2 exactly two years and my husband was also a service member. 

The request was denied without an explanation. We were flabbergasted. The men and their wives at my at my station were so supportive and helped me and my husband with taking care of our newborn child. I will forever be grateful for the rallying and support provided. 

October 1996, pregnant with my first born
My baby Thomas at just over a year old with his daddy

Two years later my owed time was up and I had the option to reenlist. For the majority of non-Air station based jobs, most Coast Guard members were required to be stationed on a ship alternating with land stations. Unless they specifically wanted to be on ship duty or if circumstances called, folks were allowed to be stationed on land for back to back tours. 

The military does married couples the honor of trying to station couples together or close by. My husband’s tour was also up. His job required him to be at an Air station which were far and few between. Air stations at the time also required a 1 in every 3 or 1 in every 4 evening overnight obligation. My job as a cook was one of the few jobs in the Coast Guard that did not require overnight stays at all. It was the only way we were able to get by raising our son until that point. That and the help from the members of my station. 

Service members have some input on where they would like to go by filling out what was referred to as a “Dream Sheet”. We filled out our dreams sheets and requested to go anywhere in the world as long as I could be stationed at a land station nearby an Air station so I could be home every evening with our son. It should not have come as a surprise when this reasonable request was denied. Yet it was a surprise and felt like a blow. 

The Commanding and Executive Officers who were fond of my hard work, impressed that I finished a secretarial certificate and was taking college classes, and who were already upset from the denial for the maternity leave I asked for were also infuriated. The Commanding Officer (unprompted) wrote a letter asking for my request to be reconsidered because he felt I was just the kind of person that the Coast Guard should want to keep. He received a response back saying that it was my turn to go on a boat and if I didn’t like it, I did not have to re-enlist. 

I did not reenlist.

I enlisted into the Active Reserves for four years instead. My husband stayed in and I became a military spouse. We had another baby and I finished my bachelor degree. 

Four years later in 2002, both my husband and I had completed all required obligations to the military. It was not long after 9/11 and we decided to take a plunge into the civilian world. 

Finding work in your twenties hot out of the military with little other work experience and family obligations is not easy. I was interested in federal employment because of the benefits and pension.

I applied to dozens of government and private sector positions. It took about 6 months to find a temporary grant funded government position.

During my first few years as a civil servant I applied for the programs and leadership trainings that were available, but I was denied participation because I was not a permanent employee. I went back to school (out of pocket) while working full time and raising 2 children for an MBA. 

I used the information I was learning in school and my personal drive constantly to make my job, my role, and in turn my organization a better place. In 2007 I finished my Masters degree and landed a full time permanent position. About 5 minutes later I was asked to teach and mentor students in the programs I had never taken and had been denied access to. I was not snarly or punishing because I paid for and took my own initiative to learn what they denied me access to. I excitedly obliged because I wanted to provide my organization with the passion and knowledge I myself wanted to share. 

MBA graduation in 2007

I cannot believe that was 18 years ago. Since then I’ve learned even more. In my journey as a government employee I’ve changed as a human, but maintained exceptional performance reviews for every single rating period for 31 years without fail. I have given the government every piece of knowledge I learned, and for many many years, many more hours than I was ever paid for. 

I have since been divorced and remarried. My children have grown and left the nest. I’ve taken many other trainings at work and outside of work. I trudged a personal journey of experiencing C-PTSD from childhood which involved drinking, recovery and a lot of therapy.

Very typical office set up I had (back in the days I had an office that is)
At my ‘hands down’ favorite position I held in Primary Care
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Group of lady work friends I had for many years

I’ve been on the path. I was not planning to retire now. I have more to give. But do I want to give it to the government anymore??? 

My heart has not  been in it a while. And the current administration seems to admonish and mock employees like myself. 

Until this very day I am dealing with “benefits” unknown to those who are the gatekeepers. My latest escapade involves healthcare. I have been paying for health insurance for a family through the Federal Employee Health Benefits (FEHB) since 2002. A few years ago while I was undergoing intensive outpatient therapy I was part-time and we used my husband’s insurance because the employee share for part-timers is unaffordable. We switched back to my insurance over 4 years ago, but the government has a stipulation that upon retirement in order to keep the FEHB for life, you have to have paid FEHB for the 5 consecutive years prior to retirement. 

This is what stopped me from Taking the Fork in the Road back in January. Healthcare. One of the very reasons I entered into the federal workforce 31 years ago. The lack of which (healthcare) I attribute to my mom passing at 49 years old. The very age I happen to be at the moment.

The only time I did not pay for healthcare was for the short period of time I shortened my work hours to deal with mental health issues.

Most veterans have mental health issues. Most individuals enter the military because the benefits outweigh the personal risks. Most individuals who join at a young age do not have many other options. Those lack of options, lack, limit = mental health issues that if not already experiencing, will likely show up later in life when the dust has settled. Like it did for me.

Back in January when the Fork in the Road email was sent, I read all over the place in OPM guidance and other government sources that under VERA authority (when early retirement is being offered) the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) waives this 5 year healthcare payment requirement. I asked about it at the time. No one has ever heard of it. Of course they haven’t. I’ve been down this sad road before. Benefits that are there but unknown or in some way inaccessible.

My Department is offering VERA again due to impending RIFs (Reduction in Force) and this time it specifically states that OPM is waiving the 5-year requirement. 

Why am I still here? What do I have to gain? 

I think I want to get off the train. I watch the world literally and proverbially whizzing by. A world I long to see and experience. 

I am not one of these mystery civil servants you hear on the news. One of these lazy people who is just taking from the population and needs their job to be cut with a sledge hammer. I gave the government more than I gained from it. I know my job can be involuntary cut in a few weeks. If I get to keep a job at all, there is no guarantee it will be at my salary level or that I enjoy. 

Yes, there is waste in the government. There is waste in all organizations. The fairness I had been seeking when entering the federal workforce is not on everyone’s side. As employees under the rule of the law, we are mostly indistinguishable from one another. All kind of being lumped in with the bath water that our administration wants to throw out.

As I reflect on my journey, I realize that my experiences have shaped me into the person I am today. The highs and lows, the challenges and triumphs, have all contributed to my growth and resilience. While the uncertainty of early retirement looms, I am filled with hope and possibility. I am ready to embrace change and explore new horizons. My dedication to public service has been unwavering, and I am proud of the contributions I have made. As I contemplate the next chapter of my life, I am reminded that there is so much more of me to give. The world is full of opportunities, and I am eager to seize them. 

 

Last photo I have with my mom (far left)

 

On New Pathways

I don’t know if it’s because I turned 40 this year. Or because I started yoga teacher training. Or because I started taking Lexapro. Or a combination of those and other things, but I’m a person going through a transition. I’m sort of on a new path.

One of the many new things in my life that I’ve been taking advantage of is the new trail that was recently built between Jarvis and West Main Street in Cheshire. It’s not officially connected to Southington yet, but it’s walkable and no one tells you to get off. It’s not connected to Cornwall Street either, which would make it possible to stay on the trail all the way from Southington to New Haven, but the small road that connects West Main and Cornwall (Willow) is safe and short enough that it’s no problem to do the whole route without getting too far off the path.

It’s a new pathway. I ran on it for the first time about a month and a half ago. It was the same day I put on a Fitbit. Daren got one at a conference in Vancouver. He had it on his dresser for a few weeks until I asked if he was going to use it. He said no and that I could, so I put it on that morning and ran the 1.25 miles up to the new trail.

As soon as I stepped off my usual route, I felt a little scared and excited. I’d never really been off my usual path (A.K.A. rut), and the excitement of being on new territory without a car felt freeing. I turned the corner not really knowing how long it would take me to get to the trail. I knew it by car, but being on foot was so much different. It turned out not to be that far.

When I reached the entrance of the trail, standing there in the bright morning sunlight, it felt a bit magical. I stopped to take a picture of the new sign. I thought I might start walking once I got there, but I wasn’t tired yet and felt a strong desire to keep running.

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The path is flat compared to the hills in my neighborhood that I’m accustomed to. Sometimes those hills kick my butt and I need to stop and walk; other times I can push through them. The flatness felt novel and good. It felt like I could run forever.

 

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I ran further into the trail and saw the “Prom?” sign graffitied into the mountain. Where did that come from? Is it the Cheshire prom pose place? Did some romantic high school boy do that for a girl while the trail was being built? Who knows… but it’s kind of nice. It sits right across from a bench.

I stopped again, feeling the warm morning sunlight on my skin, wanting to soak it in. I ran further, breathing slowly—an old trick that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. That day, it worked. The slow breathing, warm sun, and shadowy trees created the perfect conditions. I continued down this new path without really knowing how far I’d go. I just knew I wanted to keep going.

Running water, green muck, benches, beautiful trees… it was all breathtaking. I felt so alive.

When I started to hear cars in the distance, I knew I was getting close to the end. And almost without warning, there it was—West Main Street. I had to stop and just take it in. I had never seen it from that perspective, out in the open without the protection of a car. Without that barrier, you feel everything more. The air, the smells, the heat. It was beautiful.

I turned around, now having a sense of how far I had gone.

 

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Again, I thought I’d get tired and walk. To my surprise, I never really did. Even when I got back to the hills, I pushed myself just a little further each time—one mailbox at a time—until I reached the top without stopping.

By the time I got home, I realized I had run farther than I ever had before. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. And it was actually fun.

Over the next few weeks, I went back to the trail as often as I could. I walked it. I ran it. I explored parts that weren’t even officially open yet. I started combining new routes with old ones and found myself going farther and farther.

One Sunday after yoga training, I got on my bike and decided to ride the path alone. I hadn’t done that since I was a teenager. It felt both exciting and a little scary.

I rode faster than I expected and reached the end quickly, so I decided not to turn back right away. Instead, I went off the path to see if I could find my way to another entrance—without using a map. And I did.

That feeling of figuring it out on my own stayed with me. Not just physically, but mentally. I felt independent. Capable.

 

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This new path has opened up my world in so many ways. It helped me realize how strong I am, on foot and on a bike. It’s given me the ability to go places without a car. It’s connected me to different parts of town, to nature, and to myself.

And somewhere along the way, I started to see it as more than just a trail.

It felt like what was happening inside of me.

I began thinking about how we create new neural pathways in our brains—how change happens slowly, through repetition, through small shifts over time. Just like the trail being built piece by piece.

I’ve watched sections of it evolve day by day. And I realized—I’m doing the same thing.

Each day, one small change at a time, I’m creating new routes. Strengthening them. Making them deeper so they can eventually become the default instead of the old patterns and ruts.

As above, so below. Pathways are pretty amazing, whether in our minds or in the physical world.

It made me think about history—about when the Romans built roads and how that opened up the world. It created connection, trade, movement, possibility.

But roads can also wear out. Or lead somewhere you no longer want to go.

It happens in our minds too.

Creating a new path is work. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unknown. The old path is easier—it’s familiar, automatic.

But once you step off that old route and into something new, something shifts.

It’s exciting. A little scary. You’re more alert. More aware. You notice things you wouldn’t normally see because you’re no longer on autopilot.

And when you return to the old path, you see it differently. You start to recognize what still serves you—and what doesn’t.

Maybe it’s not about abandoning the old completely. Maybe it’s about keeping what’s good while creating something new.

That’s where growth happens.

New pathways—both mentally and physically—make life more exciting. They help us grow. They open up possibilities.

That sounds pretty good to me.

Thank you, Cheshire rails-to-trails project. It’s just one of many things changing in my world right now, and I wanted to honor it by sharing its beauty.

Love, Peace & Namaste.

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