Photo By Airman Lauren Torres | Lauren Torres (left), 97th Air Mobility Wing Public Affairs apprentice, and her friend...... read more read more
Growing up in Cleveland, Ohio, I often felt like the world was too big and too difficult to navigate. There were days when I felt like I was suffocating in my own life. My family was always struggling financially, and there was constant tension in the air. Screaming arguments, uncertainty about the future, and a sense that something was always just out of reach. I wasn’t sure who I was, but I was sure of one thing: I couldn’t stay in that city any longer.
By the time I was 18, I had made up my mind. I was done. Done with the constant sense of being stuck, done with the limitations of my environment. Like most big decisions, it wasn’t easy. I had no idea what came next. It wasn’t like I had some grand plan, college start date, or dream job waiting for me. All I knew was, I needed to change my life.
At 19, I packed my bags and made a choice that would alter everything. I left Cleveland behind and moved to Yellowstone National Park.
When I first arrived in Yellowstone, it felt surreal. The air was different, the landscape was unlike anything I had ever seen, the towering mountains, the endless forests, and the hot springs bubbling up from the earth. It was a place of raw, untouched beauty, a far cry from the concrete streets and tire-popping potholes of Cleveland. Despite the magnificence around me, I felt small. I didn’t know anyone, and I had no idea what I was doing. The first few days were filled with doubt, fear, and loneliness.
I worked in housekeeping at the Lake Yellowstone Hotel, cleaning and supplying linens to the village. The job wasn’t glamorous, but it was a chance to make a living and figure out what to do with my life.
I met people from all walks of life including college students working to pay off loans, retirees seeking a second chapter, and fellow wanderers like me, hoping to find something more. One woman, in her late 30s, told me she had left her corporate job to work in Yellowstone because she needed more purpose in her life. She spoke about how working in the park had changed her, how it had given her a sense of peace and fulfillment she’d never found before. Her story hit me harder than I expected. It was like she was speaking directly to the part of me that felt lost and unsure.
I had never thought of reinventing myself. I had never really seen anyone in my life do it, and hearing her made me believe it was possible. For the first time, I felt like I could take control of my future, and that I didn’t have to be stuck in the same narrative I had been given.
After my time in Yellowstone, I returned briefly to Cleveland, but something inside me had changed. A rush of emotions had run over me. I looked up into the sky and not one star was visible. I cried, actually, that’s an understatement, I sobbed. Although it may seem silly to most to cry about the lack of visible stars in the sky, to me, it was a wake-up call that I wasn't expecting.
I couldn’t go back to the life I had left behind. I had learned something valuable in Yellowstone: that I could take risks, face challenges, and find strength within myself. I realized that I needed more.
The idea of joining the military had always been in the back of my mind, but it was a terrifying thought. My family was not exactly supportive when I first mentioned it. My grandfather, a Marine who fought in the Vietnam War and was awarded a Purple Heart for his sacrifice after being shot in the arm, was adamant that the military wasn’t a place for “a girl.” He’d always said that it was too dangerous, too demanding.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn’t need their approval to chase my dreams. I had learned in Yellowstone that if I wanted to build a life that was different from the one I had known, I had to make bold decisions, even if they scared the crap out of me.
So, I took the first step. I contacted a recruiter, but I didn’t tell my family. Not right away. I didn’t want to deal with their doubts, their concerns, or their fears.
It wasn’t until I knew for sure that the path was open to me that I finally told them. When I sat down and told my mom, my heart was pounding. I half-expected her to yell at me, to tell me I was making a mistake. Instead, she paused, took a deep breath, and said something I hadn’t expected: “I may not agree with it, but I’m proud of you for making a decision. I’ll support you.”
It wasn’t the enthusiastic reaction I had hoped for, but it was enough. It was all I needed.
The decision to join the Air Force was the hardest one I’ve ever made. I had grown up with the constant feeling of change, moving from school to school, starting over every time we had to pack up and leave, but the military felt different. This wasn’t just a new school or a new town. This was a whole new world. I was terrified, to say the least.
Despite that fear, there was something inside me that knew I had to do this. I needed the discipline, the challenge, the sense of purpose that the military promised. As I went through basic training and started my career in the Air Force, I felt that strength within me grow. It was a strength I hadn’t known was there.
Now, as an Airman 1st Class, I look back on the girl I used to be, the girl from Cleveland who didn’t know her place in the world, and who felt lost and powerless. Sitting alone in classrooms, moving from school to school, never staying long enough to make real connections. I think about how she felt invisible in a city that always seemed too big for her. I think about her fear that she’d always be a shadow in the background. The girl who never thought she’d make it out.
I realize that I’m still fighting for her.
The woman I’ve become is a reflection of everything she needed to survive. The most beautiful thing I’ve learned on this journey is that it’s not just about surviving your past, it’s about writing your future. I did that. I changed the story and broke the curse. With every challenge I face now, I know that the girl who once felt small, lost, and afraid is my reason to keep moving forward. To never, ever, give up.
| Date Taken: | 01.03.2025 |
| Date Posted: | 01.03.2025 11:22 |
| Story ID: | 488657 |
| Location: | ALTUS AIR FORCE BASE, OKLAHOMA, US |
| Web Views: | 46 |
| Downloads: | 0 |
This work, From Cleveland to Yellowstone National Park to the U.S. Air Force, by Amn Lauren Torres, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.
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