What You've Done Is More Than You Think

When I separated from the military at 21, I had no idea what to do with myself.

I had spent my final years as a Marksmanship Coach, training other Marines in rifle and pistol qualification. I was good at it, but when it came time to transition to civilian life, I couldn't see how any of that mattered in the "real world." How would I know if no one had told me it did?

This was the early 2000s, the ancient times when the internet was very different and resources for military transition were far more limited than they are today. There was no one advising me on career pathing or setting myself up for the best chance to succeed. I was completely on my own to figure out how my military experience translated to civilian opportunities.

So I didn't translate it at all. I was naive, and it cost me.

I took whatever jobs I could find, often starting from scratch as if my four years of military service had taught me nothing valuable. I treated my experience like it was irrelevant to anything outside of the Marine Corps. Looking back now, twenty years later, I can see how wrong I was.

I had real, hands-on coaching experience, developing people's skills under pressure. I had facilitating experience through running training sessions and managing groups. I understood logistics, having coordinated equipment and resources for dry-fire and live-fire weeks. I had management and leadership experience, having been responsible for other Marines' development and performance.

The list goes on and on. But at 21, I couldn't see any of it.

This pattern of undervaluing my own experience didn't end with my military transition. It's followed me throughout my career, and it's only recently that I've started to recognize how much I've actually accomplished.

Looking back at every job and career move I've made since leaving the Marines has been extremely eye-opening. I've done way more than I give myself credit for. Maybe it's been an issue of memory, as we tend to forget our wins and remember our struggles. Maybe it's been a matter of undervaluing myself, dismissing accomplishments as "just part of the job." Maybe it's the confidence issues I've written about before.

Whatever the cause, I've realized that reflection holds amazing value for understanding your own worth and capabilities.

Recently, I sat down and actually wrote out what I've done over the past two decades. Not just job titles and company names, but actual accomplishments, skills developed, problems solved, and people helped. The exercise was both humbling and empowering.

I remembered projects I'd led that I hadn't thought about in years. Teams I'd built, processes I'd improved, people I'd mentored who went on to achieve great things themselves. I saw patterns in my career that revealed consistent strengths I hadn't fully recognized.

Most importantly, I started to see the thread that connected everything, from training Marines to coaching professionals, from solving operational problems to helping people navigate career transitions. The core skills were the same, just applied in different contexts.

This is why I'm so passionate about helping others recognize their own value. I see people all the time who, like my 21-year-old self, can't see the treasure trove of experience they're sitting on. They focus on what they lack instead of what they bring. They dismiss their accomplishments as ordinary when they're often quite extraordinary.

If you're reading this and feeling like you haven't done enough, like your experience isn't valuable enough, like you need more credentials or skills before you can pursue what you really want, I challenge you to stop and reflect.

Take fifteen minutes. Seriously, set a timer.

Think about where you've been, what you've done, and what you've accomplished. Don't just list job titles; dig deeper. What problems did you solve? What skills did you develop? How did you help people or improve situations? What challenges did you overcome?

I bet it's more than you thought.

Your experience has value, even if it doesn't look exactly like the traditional path to where you want to go. The skills you've developed, the challenges you've overcome, and the people you've impacted are all things that matter. They transfer in ways you might not immediately see.

The 21-year-old me needed someone to help him see that his military experience was an asset and not a liability. The 41-year-old me wants to be that person for others who might be undervaluing their own journey.

You've done more than you think. You've learned more than you realize. You have more to offer than you know.

Sometimes it just takes a moment of honest reflection to see it.

What came up for you when you took those fifteen minutes? What accomplishments or skills did you rediscover? I'd love to hear what you found in the comments.