Independence While Being a Dependent It's been eight months since my husband's military job moved us to our new location. This was the shortest move we've ever made in the thirteen years of being a military spouse. I am not tired of moving; I've gotten used to it at this point. I am tired of all the red tape we must go through to get reimbursed for damaged furniture, but that's a running joke now. I always joke about being the worst type of military wife; maybe it's my California roots, which I'll never apologize for, but the military culture was something I had to learn to adjust to. Becoming a military spouse or having any military affiliation was so far from anything I ever planned for my life. In high school, there was a Marine recruiting center right across the street. "How convenient or strategic," I remember thinking as I watched the boys in my senior class make their way over to talk to the recruiter during our lunch break. The recruitin...