A PCS really is like a strict diet. Let me explain.

When I was 6 years old, I made my first “official” best friend. Her name was Melody, and we were in the same first grade class. Although I don’t remember a lot from when I was 6 years old, I remember that Melody was, in my 6-year-old world, the best thing to ever happen. We had a lot in common—her dad was in the Navy, so was mine. She was waiting for her front tooth to come in, so was I. We liked the same music. We liked going swimming.

It was awesome.

And then one day, it happened. Her dad got his orders, and they PCS’d.

My 6-year-old world came crashing down. I remember hiding in my closet crying because she was my best friend, my only friend. Just like that, she was gone.

We wrote back and forth via snail mail for a while, and with time, that eventually ceased. She moved on and had a new bestie, and so did I.

But I never forgot my blonde, front-tooth-missing first best friend.

Now, I’m 32 years old, and my husband and I are at our second duty station with Army.

What a whirlwind. Thanks to the military, I’ve had numerous friendships over the last five years. Some of those friendships barely scratch the surface and some go deeper than deep. I’ve had friendships that were lost, and some that, if it weren’t for forgiveness, may not still be alive today.

Along with the military giving me a chance to make friends, the military also gives my friends the chance to explore new territories in the form of a PCS.

Today, we’ve been at our current duty station two years, and I’ve had time to cultivate some serious friendships. In the last three months, I’ve had four friends come down on orders.

Within months, they’ll be gone.

Sure, there is a chance that I might see them again, but then, maybe not.

And that’s okay, because I’ve changed my perspective.

I’ve decided that PCSes are like a diet. It’s okay to be sad, as long as we balance the sadness with the joys and blessings that will come from the change.

If I go on a strict diet, that means I have to give up certain things, like brownies. I love brownies! But, if I am going to diet, that means I have to give up my beloved, chocolate heavenly goodness.

Can I be sad about that? Sure. I can be sad that it will be a long time before I can ever eat a brownie again.

But, I can also count my blessings and look at the joy that will come from having lost 20 pounds or getting a good report from the doctors.

We have to balance the sadness with the joy.

With my new perspective, I called up my four friends to encourage them, plan last-minute quality time, and offer my assistance with anything.

So, with PCS season nearly upon us, I vote we change your perspectives. It’s okay to be sad about saying goodbye (to brownies and friends), but there’s always a chance you’ll someday reunite.

P.S. I recently got back into touch with my 6-year-old best friend Melody. Great news: we’re still friends.