Loneliness in the Firewife Life

There’s a specific kind of quiet that settles in when he’s at work. The kids might be buzzing around. The dog might be pawing for attention. My day might be filled to the brim with things to do. But still—there’s a deep, quiet ache that hits when the noise dies down, and I realize my best friend is at the fire station for the next 24 or 48 hours.

I know I’m strong. I know I should be “fine on my own.” And most days, I am. But here’s me being completely honest—I still get lonely.

Being married to a firefighter means solo nights, solo dinners, solo parenting, and solo moments when you want to share a glance, a joke, or just sit in silence next to your person. It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. I’m immensely grateful for the hard work my husband does, for the sacrifices he makes to help others. But that doesn’t cancel out the fact that sometimes, I just miss him.

So what do I do when the blues hit?

1. I work out.

Not a cute little stretch and a couple of squats. I get after it. I lift heavy weights. I run stairs. I ride the bike with resistance cranked up high and let my muscles scream a little. That fire in my body helps put out the one in my heart.

2. I walk with a friend.

Not just any friend—but the kind of friend I can be completely unfiltered with. The kind of woman who gets my quirks, my sharp tongue when I’m tired or frustrated, my obsessive kicks (as my husband calls them). These walks are where I leave it all on the trail. Where laughter and cussing go hand-in-hand. Where we spill our truths, pick up each other’s pieces, and keep going. I always come home feeling lighter—and more grateful.

I am lucky enough to have a tribe of women who are wickedly smart, funny, fast walkers, and completely honest about their own lives and relationships. They remind me: women are better in a pack than alone.

If you’ve felt this loneliness too, I want you to know—it doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And if you need to vent, to move, to feel seen—hit up a girl. Go for that walk. Sling those weights. Talk it out. Laugh it off. It’s just a moment. And moments pass.

You’re not alone. You’re just in the in-between. And trust me—your people are out there waiting to walk beside you.

With heart,

Melissa Hess

Founder, Her Battalion