By Air Force Tech. Sgt. Vanessa Kilmer
92nd Air Refueling Wing
FAIRCHILD AIR FORCE BASE, Wash., Feb. 20, 2015 – Air Force
Senior Master Sgt. Daphne Soto never meets a stranger, because each encounter
opens a door to a potential new friend or to someone who just needs to talk.
And she'll keep the door open for both.
This 24-year Air Force veteran will weave a serpentine path
through cubicles and offices just to say hello to every airman, regardless of
rank. Her conversations are sprinkled with laughter and seasoned with southern
flavor when she reveals her roots with the occasional use of the word
"child."
For Soto, the 92nd Air Refueling Wing’s equal opportunity
director here, it's not just part of her job. A self-proclaimed "sweet
girl from South Carolina," she has always held tight to one goal from the
moment she enlisted: to always give her personal best.
Soto said she knew her lofty goals would require more
attention, and possibly sacrifices, but that she didn't recognize the magnitude
of the impending imbalance. Her aspirations formed blinders that cloaked lost
time with her family and shrouded symptoms as her body began to rebel against
her.
Ambition Leads to More Responsibility
Early in her career, as a telephone switch operator and then
as combat crew communications, her ambition was the ever-present shove toward
more responsibility. "I wanted to be the chief master sergeant of the Air
Force," she said. "I think everyone's had that little moment."
But Soto's appetite for responsibility left her family
hungry for her presence back home.
As a mother of three and wife of an active-duty crew chief,
Soto said, she worked 12-hour days that didn't end when she returned home. She
would bring work home with her and would take calls on her home phone, even
late in the evening. This was when cellphones were new, she noted.
"I've always tried to be a good mom and a good wife and
a great airman," she said. "But I soared at a cost, … because I
sacrificed all of that precious family time. I was on every [temporary duty
assignment]; I never turned down an opportunity. There was a time that my
husband and I weren't even seeing each other. I would kiss my kids goodnight,
read a quick bedtime story and then get right back on the phone."
Hectic Cycle Took a Toll
Soto was on that cycle for almost 18 years, which she
admitted took a toll on her as well.
"When you're used to being that go-to person and having
to live up to that expectation, and not being able to say no, it takes a
lot," she said. "And then you find yourself saying, 'You've got to
say no.'"
Soto said she justified this brutal schedule because she saw
it as her purpose -- a part of her legacy.
"I thought I was being a role model to my children and
making my husband proud being that breadwinner," she said. "So you
lie to yourself. You lie to yourself to say it's all worth it in the end. You
convince yourself that it's going to justify it all once you hit that
goal."
For almost 20 years, Soto charged through, made rank, earned
more awards and accolades, with the support of her husband, Air Force Master
Sgt. Damon Soto, pushing her forward.
Every extra hour his wife put in meant an extra hour away
from him, but he accepted the sacrifice "because I love her, and that's
what she wanted," he said. "And she's way smarter than I am."
Partnership Fueled Difficult Balance
He acknowledged that it was difficult to balance school,
work and children, but he said their partnership kept them going.
"When her schedule was hard, I picked up as much slack
as I could, and vice versa," he said. "My thought was if we didn't,
everything would fail."
It was 2010 when life for Soto changed. In two months, she
had inexplicably lost weight -- down from a size 6 to a size 00.
For about two years, Soto said, she had noticed changes in
her body -- nothing to raise alarm, but the weight loss began to bring
everything into focus. She advocated for a referral to see a doctor who would
be able to diagnose her symptoms.
After Soto's doctor heard about her weight loss, he waived
his three-month wait list and agreed to see her within the week. It was just 30
minutes between the beginning of the examination and the diagnosis she had
begun to expect: cancer.
Overwhelming Weight of Diagnosis
Soto described driving home from the appointment and pulling
over because she was overwhelmed with the weight of the diagnosis and blinded
by uncontrollable tears. She said she distinctly remembers the primal urge to
talk to her mother.
"My mother said, 'It's going to be OK. We're going to
get through it,'” Soto said. “And you know, I didn't really have a choice,
because I had three kids and a husband to worry about."
For Soto, whose life and career had been going at full-tilt
for more than two decades, everything suddenly stopped, and her life aligned
itself along a completely unexpected trajectory.
After her diagnosis, Soto said, she had a crash course in
cancer. Because of the aggressiveness of the disease, she had to make very
quick decisions to determine the course of her treatment and elected to undergo
two invasive surgeries.
Before her diagnosis, Soto was chosen as the primary
organizer for her career field's upcoming utilization and training workshop, in
which attendees develop all of the equal opportunity career field's training
requirements.
A Realization During Convalescence
After her second surgery, Soto was confined to her home for
six weeks, facing a six-month convalescent period and completely dependent on
Damon. During that time, she said, she came to a powerful realization: The
workshop was held on schedule, and her career field's training curriculum was
developed -- without her. The mission went on.
"I think that's when it all started coming
together," she said. "I said, ‘I have to shift my priorities, and
it's OK to take care of me.’"
Upon returning to work, Soto said, she had a new
perspective. She said she found a new rhythm and started feeling more effective
at a slower pace.
The slower pace gave her time to think things through and be
clearer with expectations. It also gave her the confidence to say no, instead
of trying to complete the task no matter the cost, she said.
"It's OK to say no,” she added. “It's OK to say, 'I
can't do it all.’ 'I can't' is not a bad part of your vocabulary, unless you
are completely giving up, and I wasn't doing that."
Value in Helping Others
Her work improved because of her honest communication, Soto
said, and she found that by taking care of herself, she saw more value in
taking care of others.
"I was so worried about my career, [but] what was I
doing for others?" she said. "And now I realize I don't have to
supervise a soul. It's the Air Force's airmen. They are all my airmen."
These connections, Soto said, helped her embrace and
understand the importance of "Mission First, People Always."
"I'm not here just to transition an individual to the
next rank,” she said. “I'm here to transition them to things that are going to
be … throughout life."
With only a few months left until retirement, Soto said,
although she has Florida and her dream tea shop in her sights, she is still focused
on her airmen. "I don't believe in ‘ROAD,’” she said, using a derisive
acronym that stands for “retired on active duty.”
"I will work until that last duty day, even if that is
just walking around and saying hello to every airman,” she added. “I will do my
personal best. That is my goal with leaving the Air Force and living
life."
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