The Weight of the Badge: A Police Wife’s Reflection During National Police Week

Sunday, May 11, 2025 marked the beginning of National Police Week—a time set aside to honor law enforcement officers who’ve died in the line of duty, and to support the families who carry their legacy.

As a therapist who works closely with first responders—and as a police wife myself—this week hits differently. It’s not abstract. It’s personal. It’s heavy.

I’ve stopped and started this post multiple times, just staring at the screen. This is a hard week. It’s a week that makes the Thin Blue Line family come face to face with a reality we hope we never live out.

The law enforcement field is one of sacrifice.
Daily stress, strain, and sacrifice—for both the officer and their family.
Sacrifices of time, of energy, of passion.
Physical safety and peace of mind are traded when they show up for others in their worst moments.
And the impact of those scenes lingers—etched into memory, carried in the body.

The spouses and family members are all too familiar with the weight of the badge, and the absence it brings.
The physical absence from late nights, overtime, even regular shifts—missing both everyday moments and once-in-a-lifetime milestones.
The mental absence that’s harder to name, because even when they’re home, the job is still there. When a mind echoes traumatic scenes, and a nervous system has learned to stay hypervigilant, it’s hard to fully land in the present.

It’s an incredible honor and privilege as a therapist to work with first responders and their loved ones.
I love that my office is a place where they are understood and accepted, where their pain is treated with respect.
They feel like extended family to me—because I’m also married to a law enforcement officer.

It feels strange to call myself a veteran police wife. In some ways, these past 10+ years have flown by. And in others, some moments still feel frozen in time.
I’ve witnessed the sacrifices my husband, our friends, and my clients have made to protect and serve their communities. I’ve experienced my own sacrifices, and watched first responder spouses—friends and clients—carry theirs.
Now, I’m watching my children experience the quiet cost of this life, giving up time and presence.

I want to honor the echoes of pain that reverberate through the lives of those who’ve lost a loved one in the line of duty.
The families who carry on with an empty seat at the table.
A missing person in family pictures.
A contact card in your phone that hurts to see, but feels impossible to erase.
The silence in the lineup room.
The badge numbers we remember.
The flowers placed at gravesites and memorials.
The loss of a soul who gave their life in service to others.

They deserve recognition every single day—and quietly, many of us do.
In our hearts. In our homes. In our precincts.

If you are a law enforcement officer—active or retired—I hope you know this:
You are seen. Your pain is real.
And if you’re struggling silently, please reach out—to a fellow officer, peer support, a chaplain, or a specialized therapist.
Your struggles and sacrifices deserve to be witnessed and healed.

If you are a law enforcement family member—
I see you. I sit with you. I am you.
I know the quiet pain. The buzzing fear we push away. Please don’t carry these burdens alone.
Find support—a therapist, a pastor, a group setting that gets it.

To those who gave their lives in service of others— We owe you a debt of gratitude we can never repay.

#2052 – gone but never forgotten.
We miss you, Meagan.

If this post resonates with you—whether as an officer, spouse, or supporter—know that you're not alone.
Seeking Peace Counseling offers trauma-informed care for first responders and their families. You’re welcome here.