Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion

by Lindsay Swoboda

“... explores the ache of holding on—to dreams, identity, and relationships ... the moments of joy, unexpected community, rediscovered passion ... Her storytelling is lyrical, grounded, and profoundly human ...”
—Corie Weathers, LPC, author, clinician, military spouse

When dancer Lindsay Swoboda marries a Marine, her dream of following her passion for performing collides with the realities of their military back-to-back overseas moves, navigating pregnancy during deployment, and creating new support systems again and again.

As their growing family moves around the globe, Lindsay finds both tension and beauty in each new beginning.

She creates a dance program in Korea. Becomes a mother in Hawaii. Morocco offers healing for her marriage after multiple deployments. In Ecuador, a fire, riots, and a high-risk pregnancy remind her there is uncertainty even in what appears to be a peace-filled chapter. Looking forward to being closer to family after nearly a decade away, the Swobodas nestle into Virginia just in time for the COVID-19 pandemic.

Seeking new ways to cope with constant change and challenge, Lindsay writes her way through loneliness, self-doubt, and anxiety, and shares the burden and brilliance of each season with a community of friends.

In her memoir Holding On and Letting A Life in Motion, Lindsay unfolds her military spouse journey with lyrical storytelling and sensory imagery, encouraging readers to champion both big and small victories, make space for grief and goodness, and find the courage to persevere.

Cover art painting by military spouse Lindsay Wilkins.

256 pages, Paperback

Published May 6, 2025

Reviews

[Pat Lane · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I saw this title and description, I felt I needed to read this book. I wasn’t disappointed, though Lindsay’s story and life are very different from mine. A life in motion is definitely different if that motion is due to a military life and easier to explain, not necessarily easier to live though. There were times I wished our moves were due to military as that would have been an easier answer to the questions of why had we moved so much. Also life moving in the military has many built-in supports that just being a family alone doesn’t have. But there was much of her story and the fears and worries and sadness that were far too familiar, at least up until the last 15 years, and I found myself in tears at times reliving those emotions.

Some of her thoughts that resonated the most with me, definitely gratitude for friends along the way, “Thank goodness for friends who live alongside us in this transient life, who swoop in to make things easier when they can.”

Thoughts that I probably wasn’t able to voice at the time, “I realize every single place I have lived has looked me straight in the eye and demanded: Will you be open here? Will you allow your heart to spill out and learn what you can from those you meet along the way? Can you accept that you will never be the same?”

Lindsay didn’t speak often about her faith, but her realization of what she wanted to teach her daughter is what I pray my kids took from our living a life in motion. “Is that what faith is? Arriving at a place where I would always believe things would pan out? Or is it more of an everyday wrestling with the truth that I can't walk this earth by my own power, and that I don't have to if I choose to believe in God?”

“I imagine roots again, sliced and transplanted, and wonder if we can learn to settle, or if we will forever seek the comfort of change.” I have to admit as much as I love the dearest friends God could ever give and the sheer joy of having our kids and grandkids close by, when things get really hard, I still ask this question. That’s what a life in motion does.

“I might never see some of the houses I made into homes ever again, or hug the people who loved me in those places…(but) They can root as stories, built from the mortar of memories, a growing roof that extends across time and space. Our stories are our homes; we can take them with us.”

I appreciate Lindsay putting her story into words. It made me want to put my own story down one of these days perhaps to ever feel like there’s not another place to go. Although maybe that’s just the longing for Heaven God’s children should have.

[AshLeigh Link · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion is a billet-doux; a heartwarming love letter to the endless discoveries of friendship. The discovery of friendship within oneself, profession, marriage, home, community, and foreign country. Lindsay vulnerably brings the reader into the pages of her life’s story as she navigates the depths of becoming.

Holding On and Letting Go asks us to juxtapose what we will carry with us and what will stay as we pivot into newer seasons. Lindsay paints a life in motion that so succinctly communicates the challenges and growth of a transient life, often experienced as a military spouse. As the reader journey’s alongside Lindsay, literary suitcases in hand, we witness firsthand the vulnerability of goodbye and beginning again. Lindsay asks us to open our bursting at the seams trunks to reflect on risks taken, cherished memories made, and friendships gathered. We then must pack these memories away in our hearts and dig for the promised seeds of growth in our suitcase. We throw these seeds into the wind in hopes each will sprout the roots of what will define us in this here and now. We witness Lindsay boldy walk trials and tribulations, tenderly nurturing and pruning the growing seeds of each season. In Holding On and Letting Go, we witness Lindsay choose to stay open. A choice that required Lindsay to vulnerably try amidst the hardest unknowns. Because of her willingness to try, we watch endless measures of friendship with herself, community, and marriage unfold in beautifully unexpected ways.

It is a Joy to know Lindsay and to read Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion. Lindsay chose to see my heart without reservation, as she once asked of others in this memoir, giving my family community in a season of transition and vast unknowns. It is because of military spouses like Lindsay that my suitcase bursts at the seams as we continue to hold on and let go.

[Elizabeth Bosse · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have followed Lindsay’s writing for years. She has such a way with words. Fellow military spouse here and I’m not sure a book has ever made me feel more seen. I laughed. I cried. I smiled.
This book was a balm to my soul in this current PCS season. Reading Lindsay’s words reminded me I am not alone. While all our experiences are different, there is much that is the same.
Thank you Lindsay for putting this book out into the world. Thank you for creating the Work of Words Workshop. I cannot wait for everyone to get to read this book!

[Amber Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lindsay has a gift with words. As a military spouse myself, I found myself laughing at many of the stories Lindsay shares, having experienced something similar. I felt seen, heard, understood, and far less alone in all the ups and downs of military life.
This is a great book for anyone curious about military spouse life. I’ll be recommending this to friends and family who have no perspective on what our lives can be like as Lindsay so eloquently paints the ups and downs while maintaining a glimmer of hope throughout it all.

[Dee · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a military spouse, I’ve often struggled to find words for the mix of joy, grief, strength, and vulnerability this life demands. Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion by Lindsay captures all of it with such grace and honesty that I felt seen in every chapter. This memoir is both authentic and beautiful—at times, it felt like I was reading my own journal and hearing my personal thoughts echoed back to me. I’ve never related to a book so deeply. I feel as if I’ve found a sister soul. Lindsay shared this quote from Anne of Green Gables, “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.”
I wholeheartedly give this book a resounding five stars and want to share it with every friend and family member. If you’re a military spouse looking to feel heard, or someone with loved ones in the military that you’d like to understand better, this book beautifully captures the experience. While Lindsay is not intending to speak for every spouse, only her own experience, I do feel that her words describe so many familiar emotions. And even if you have no connection to the military world, this memoir speaks to anyone navigating change, transition, or the bittersweetness of letting go.
This book arrived at just the right time in my life. My family is on the verge of a season of transition, and I’m learning how to simultaneously hold onto and let go of precious things.
I’m learning to lean into the short time we have left. In our community, once people find out you’re moving, one of two things tends to happen: either people decide it’s not worth investing anymore, and the person moving checks out mentally, already focused on the next phase; or, everyone recognizes the value in soaking up every remaining moment. They choose to bloom where they’re planted. Relationships are still worth investing in, even in the face of impending change.
Lindsay refers to these dear friendships as “leftover friends.” “I had this one other person before,” she tells me. “We called each other leftover friends, because we were comfortable enough to eat each other’s leftovers from the fridge together.”
I am reminded of several ‘leftover friends’ in my own life. Particularly of my friend Jessica. She was one of my very first friends from our current church. I remember the first time I met her, we just prayed together over different life circumstances and sin struggles for 2 hours in her van parked outside of Iron Bank Coffee. I had never experienced such beautiful authenticity. At the time I was single, but now 6 years later we gather our combined brood of children at her house. We eat leftovers from the fridge and co-parent together. Her friendship is a treasure to me.
Knowing that we will soon leave this friendship behind physically, this quote also deeply resonated with me: “The coming and going of friends is constant. It feels like I’m saying hello and goodbye on repeat, sometimes in the same breath. It is painful and yet purpose-filled, teaching me to hold the bonds of friendship with open hands.”
A main theme that stands out to me—especially after talking with a friend—is the beauty entangled with the hard. This friend, AshLeigh, and I have discussed the weight upcoming moves have on both of our hearts. We have a pact to be ‘leftover friends’ for one another, and also processed what it means to hold onto certain friendships and lessons, and let go of others.
When you share the painful experiences of this lifestyle such as the weight of moving or solo parenting, people often respond with, “Well, you signed up for this.” It can make you feel like you’re only allowed to talk about the positives, and that acknowledging the hardships is unwelcome and viewed as complaining.
Lindsay captures this in almost a haunting way, “Can I be a mother, a military spouse, and myself, tangled between bold and breaking? Can I love the adventures of this lifestyle but also feel exhausted with each new trial?”
The answer is yes. We can hold both. We can love the military life and still feel overwhelmed by it. We can love our spouses and our communities, and also acknowledge the challenges that come with this way of life. There are countless beautiful and unique experiences—but just as many uniquely hard ones.
Two challenges that feel especially fresh and real to me are solo parenting and moving our children.
On solo parenting, Lindsay writes, “I am always in the room, the one parent present daily, finding new ways to pour out love from an empty vessel.”
Bentley went on an extended work trip when Millie was just shy of two, and Sophie was only three months old. I remember the long nights and even longer days where I felt like that empty vessel. The “plastic bag” in Katy Pery’s Firework if you will. I am eternally grateful for the friends and family who showed up for us—and for the mentors who reminded me I could just “do the next right thing.” These lessons were hard-won and have become deeply rooted in my heart.
Thinking of my own weakness, and striving to parent through it, this passage still brings me to tears every time I read it:
“Am I allowed to show my weakness? How much crying in front of my kid is too much? When is it damaging? When do I hide it? I can’t remember my mom crying. Or my dad. Or my grandparents. That doesn’t mean they were right or that either of us is wrong. So much of parenting is navigating answers we don’t have in the moment. We only know what we know, and we do our best with that knowledge. But I long for guidance on what is good. Good practice for our hearts, for our minds, for our souls as we navigate challenges together as a family.”
Just weeks ago, I found myself wrestling with this very idea while my cousin Anna visited from out of state. I wanted to wear a mask of positivity for her—to prove I could be “super mom” and balance three kids, a job, and major family events all on my own. I thought that if I admitted I was struggling, it would mean I couldn’t handle my children or this life. That if it was hard, it somehow meant it wasn’t good or worthwhile.
But I’ve learned there is beauty in vulnerability. It’s more than okay to not be okay. Depending on one another is something to be celebrated, not shamed.
Amidst the hardship, there is also hope. We’re now getting the chance to move closer to family. As we waited for this opportunity, I felt waves of uncertainty and anxiety—excited by the possibility, but also dreading that it might never come to fruition. Lindsay writes about a similar experience: “My heart expands and contracts. I dare not entertain the idea, though, in case I jinx it.”
In the end, this quote best captures the essence of the memoir—and the life we’re living:
“Whether I chose this sojourner life or it chose me, I have a heart that carries many places and people. They live on my person, branching out and extending my tendrils. I might never see some of the houses I made into homes again, or hug the people who loved me in those places, so perhaps the purpose of these threadlike appendages is that they are meant to stretch out and find a support of their own. They can root as stories, built from the mortar of memories, a growing roof that extends across time and space. Our stories are our homes, we can take them with us.”
If you’ve ever loved deeply, let go reluctantly, or lived a life in motion, Holding On and Letting Go will feel like a warm, honest companion for your journey. I will carry its stories—and the comfort they brought me—for years to come.

[Rachel · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a beautiful memoir of what it is like to grow up and live life. You don't need to be a military spouse to relate to the ups and downs of life and how moving rocks your sense of self. I enjoyed how each chapter could stand on its own as a personal essay, but all together they are connected and woven together into the true story of a military family and what it means to work together and help each other. This book led me to productive personal reflection and gave me hope for my future.

[Bethany Broderick · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is one of the most beautiful memoirs I’ve read. Swoboda is so generous with her story, and I didn’t want to put the book down! Even if you’re not a military family, you can be inspired by her stories of compassion for herself and for others, of resilience and flexibility, and of learning what truly matters.

[Genevieve Kruger · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was so honored to be part of the Launch Team for Lindsay Swoboda’s book Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion.

From the very first few pages, I was completely drawn in. Lindsay has such a stunning narrative voice, strong and tender, poetic and real. Her writing is filled with emotion, but it never feels heavy. She beautifully described scenes you can see, hear, and feel, and there’s such a natural rhythm to her storytelling that made me feel like I was right there with her.

What I loved was her balance she brought to the hard parts as she shared painful truths with honesty and heart, without weighing the story down. Her words were thoughtful and full of grace.

As a fellow military spouse who lived this life for 18 years, now retired, I saw so much of my own journey in hers. Each season, each move, each shift in identity, I felt so much of the same. There were moments that I paused to reflect on my own “chapters.”

I highlighted so many quotes that resonated with me, but I’ll highlight two that really stayed with me:

“We have to continue to pour in. To make space. To hit the refresh button. To forgive and rebuild, flirt and battle, cry and celebrate. We have to care.”

She wrote that in reference to not giving up on her marriage during deployments and the heavy transitions and I felt this deeply. Military life brings a unique set of challenges, and it takes so much intention to keep choosing love in the middle of it all.

Lindsay writes like a friend, someone sitting across the table with a warm cup of coffee, just sharing her heart.
Another line that stuck with me was:
“I’ve often wondered whether I can convey this story of mine, this balance of joy and sorrow, and if I can, will it make a difference? Conversely, what would happen if I kept my story safely nestled in my own pages, seen only by me?”
I’m so grateful she chose to share it. Because her story does make a difference. So many of us can relate, whether through the lens of military life, motherhood, or simply navigating all the changes that come with growing up and growing forward.
I can’t recommend this book enough. It’s one I’ll keep with me and share with others.

[Anna Morgan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lindsay Swoboda’s book Holding On and Letting Go is a magnificent account of sacrifice, love and surrender. It weaves an intricate and implicit motif of embracing uncertainty, relinquishing control and cultivating joy in the trials and triumphs of our stories.

Her vulnerable memoir is a fantastic resource for service members and their military families navigating long absences, challenging missions abroad or constant readjustments. Still, individuals from all walks of life facing many of the universal challenges Lindsay wrestled with or reflected on will certainly benefit from her insight and experiences as well. Particularly regarding relatable adjustments to ever changing circumstances, pursuing a calling while supporting your spouse’s, personal and professional identity transitions and ultimately embracing the providence of God in seasons of fluctuating recuperation or achievements.

It is exceptionally impactful how masterfully authentic and empathetic Lindsay's journey is composed, as she delves into the rewarding and often complex ordeals our unique demographic frequently encounter.

Ultimately Holding On and Letting Go is a beautiful, encouraging and inspirational must read I highly recommend!!

[Gracie Burgess · Rating 5 out of 5]

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

5 star book right here!!! A big shout out to someone I am grateful to call a friend. She wrote this beautiful book of her journey as a military spouse and let me tell you, it was extremely moving!

Lindsay, this was such a fantastic read! I’m honored to know you and have gotten to read this book. Thank you for putting pen to paper and letting your story live on for generations to come

Go read it today!!! This book is a true testament to holding on and letting go, putting faith over fear, reaching out for help, and an encouragement to anyone who reads it regardless of their military affiliation. I encourage you to grab a copy of this book and share it with others!

[Laura Bass · Rating 5 out of 5]

I laughed, I cried, I loved reading about Lindsay's journey through the world as a military spouse. Though my life looks very different from her exploration of countries and cultures, I related to the way her dreams evolved over time and the ups and downs of finding your way in the world, as well as the shift in identity that motherhood brings. The writing is beautiful, and I couldn't put it down! Highly recommend!