Breaking Up With the Good Girl Rules
The Rules Are Made Up, Babe
By: Kera Sanchez, MILSPO Social Co. Editor-in-Chief
Girl, I said what I said.
As a recovering firstborn daughter, I’ve been a rule follower for as long as I can remember. I have a vivid memory from fourth grade when my teacher made me write my name on the board in chalk after I repeatedly talked out of turn instead of listening.
Then, about 25 minutes later, I had to walk back up to the board. I remember the broken piece of chalk trembling in my hands as I placed a check mark next to my name, marking the second time I had messed up in a single day.
That was about as much trouble as I ever allowed myself to get into as a child. And, in many ways, the rules of life have followed me ever since.
For more than 15 years, I’ve also been conditioned as a professional educator to meet deadlines, follow the rules, and live up to the expectations of what a “good teacher” should look like. I could never be caught sitting behind my desk if an administrator popped in for a walkthrough. I had to be proactive, follow up, and document every attempt to get a struggling student to turn in missing work. If a student failed, I needed the receipts to prove I had done everything in my power to prevent it. Otherwise, somehow, it was my fault.
For 39 years, I’ve lived under the rules, expectations, and invisible guidelines that define what makes a person good, productive, and exceptional at their job.
And today, five days before the launch of the third issue of MILSPO Social Co. Magazine, I’m giving myself permission to break a few of them.
Because here’s the thing: It’s my business.
Here’s the context.
As I’ve been sharing behind-the-scenes drafts of the magazine with the incredible women featured in this issue, quite a few have kindly asked me, “Your titles say Issue 3. Shouldn’t it say Issue 4?”
And honestly? They’re right to ask. They’re looking out for me. They have my back. They don’t want me to publish a mistake. After all, this is the final quarterly issue of the magazine’s debut year. By all the usual expectations, it should be Issue 4.
But it’s not. It’s Issue 3.
And normally, through the lens of a lifetime of people-pleasing and societal expectations, I would crumble under the weight of that realization.
I failed to publish four issues in my first year.
I must be disorganized.
Maybe I’m struggling more than I let on.
Am I actually cut out for this?
The funny thing? No one has said any of those things to me. Not one person. These are the stories I could tell myself, the judgments I could make, and the standards I could use to measure my worth. All on my own.
Because somewhere along the way, I learned that if I didn’t meet the expectation, I had failed. And if I failed, it must mean something about who I am.
But let’s talk about what this magazine was built for in the first place: military spouse entrepreneurs.
We need spaces like this because our professional lives don’t happen in a vacuum. We’re building businesses while navigating constant relocations, TDYs, deployments, primary caregiver responsibilities, and an exhausting amount of administrative red tape. We’re trying to grow something of our own while our lives are often dictated by circumstances outside our control. And sometimes, even getting a healthcare claim sorted out feels like a part-time job.
So, yes. I bit off more than I could chew.
But that doesn’t mean I failed. It means I’m still chewing.
And I’m a hell of a lot more experienced today than I was when I started. I know more about publishing, business, community building, and my own capacity than I did a year ago. I have three issues to show for the work I’ve put in, the women I’ve elevated, and the community we’re building together.
You know what else I have? Proof that I started.
Because while I could have spent another year waiting for the perfect time, the perfect plan, or the perfect circumstances, I didn’t. I started before I had it all figured out. I made mistakes. I learned. I adjusted. And I kept going.
There is no rulebook that says a debut magazine must publish four issues in its first year to be legitimate. There is no invisible panel of judges deciding whether I’m qualified to do this based on the number on the cover.
And even if there were? I’m not interested in auditioning for them anymore.
I’m building a business, not trying to earn a gold star from the imaginary administrator walking through my classroom.
So, Issue 3 it is.
Not because I don’t care about quality, deadlines, or the women who trust me with their stories. I care deeply. But I am learning that accountability and perfectionism are not the same thing. That I can acknowledge what didn’t happen without turning it into a referendum on my abilities. That I can be proud of what I’ve built without pretending it all went according to plan.
And maybe that’s the whole point.
MILSPO Social Co. Magazine exists to remind military-affiliated women that we can build something meaningful in the middle of lives that don’t always cooperate with our plans.
Maybe I need to give myself the same grace I want every woman reading these pages to give herself.
Three issues. One debut year. A hell of a lot of learning.
And absolutely no intention of letting an imaginary rulebook convince me that I didn’t do something worth celebrating.
ISSUE 3 Launches on 10/22/26! Who’s ready?
Kera Sanchez, M.Ed. is the Editor-in-Chief of MILSPO Social Co. Magazine and Get Griefy Magazine. She is a Navy Spouse Stationed at Ft. Meade, Maryland and is passionate about the power of storytelling within her distinct Communities.
