We’ve all heard that quote, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Several years ago, this quote ticked me off. Mainly because I wanted my dearest, darling, most-handsomest-stud-of-a-new-husband around all the time. I didn’t want to spend my time missing him, regardless of what I could gain from that.

Most of our courtship was long distance, a few short months living four hours apart, then 12 months of a deployment. By the time our wedding day rolled around, I was over the “absence” part and geared up for some lovely, together ’til-death-do-we-part time.

But we all know how the military rolls. And my new stage-five-clinger self didn’t take it well.

About three months after we were married, my husband left Fort Riley to go to South Carolina for Drill Sergeant school. He was only gone for a couple of months, but man—I missed that guy.

After graduation, he came back to Kansas, and we prepared for our first PCS as a family. It was memorable to say the least.

Finally, we arrived at Fort Benning to begin his time as drill sergeant. “Ah yes,” I thought to myself. “Two whole years of non-deployment duty, minimal schools, and we’ll actually be living in the same zip code.”

Did I mention I was a brand-new spouse who spent a little too much time living in Pretendland?

Long story still long, those two years were pretty intense. Super long hours for him, me making the bad life decision to not reach out to my community, which led to me realizing that I had to have other adults and pillars of support than my husband.

Fast forward a couple of duty stations and several years later.

We have just arrived back in Georgia at a new duty station while my husband serves as a Ranger instructor for the next three-ish years.

I don’t know if I’ve (slowly) grown up as a milspouse or learned a lot really fast, but things are much different (see all: better/less stressful) this time around.

Sure, the job is different. But I am a different person too.

Since our time as newlyweds on his trail as drill sergeant, we’ve experienced many, many TDYs, schools, trainings, and miniature deployments (the most recent of which was actually the best deployment ever, if you can believe such a thing exists). Normally, even without major deployments, we’re apart about six months out of each year.

During this last PCS season, my husband and I were able to spend more time together than I think we ever have in our marriage or his military career. We’re adult enough now to give each other space, to work hard to carve out opportunities for the other to have “me” time but still have time for each other.

It’s not perfect and still a work in progress. But we’re getting there.

The other day, as my husband was working some crazy-long intense hours, I found myself sitting at home on a Friday night. I had just put our Threenager to bed (#SmallVictories!) and flopped down in the chair.

The Tiny Human still cooking in my currently-occupied-uterus started to kick. I smiled as I sat in the silence of our home.

My smile grew wider as I suddenly realized that I was missing my husband—in a good way.

It wasn’t that annoyed, frustrated, desperate I-miss-you-please-for-the-love-of-chocolate-sauce-come-home-soon-because-I-need-tangible-logistical-help-parenting missing feeling.

It was “Wow. I miss my awesome husband’s companionship. And I look forward to him coming home so we can hang out and chat and just be together.”

The “missing” factor of missing my husband was actually a good thing.

If you would have asked me several years ago if that could be a positive thing, I would have laughed in your face, convinced it was an impossibility.

Now, as we continue to adjust to the semi-crazy schedule of his new job, I rejoice in the fact that I do miss my husband when he’s gone, not in a desperate way, but in a can’t-wait-to-see-him-again way.

I’m grateful that the “missing” factor in my milspouse life has not only returned but matured.

And, I’m grateful that I have an incredible service member that is so worth all that “missing.”