BALTIMORE COUNTY — For many veterans, the wounds of war are not always visible.
For retired Army Capt. Amina Ali, some of those wounds followed her home and went unrecognized for years.
Her story traces back to a night in Iraq, just weeks before she was set to return home. A series of blasts hit her base while she slept.
Army veteran details trauma, inequity and long road to healing
“I woke up on the floor … my ears were ringing … everything was in slow motion,” she said.
After helping clear the building, she returned to get into uniform, only to notice unexploded ordnance outside her window.
Still disoriented, she focused on getting the injured soldier to medical care.
“I was thinking I have to get him to my boss so he can get assessed,” she said.
Soon after, she was asked to help write a statement supporting the soldier’s Purple Heart.
But she said no one stopped to check on her.
“Nobody ever asked me if I was OK … because I wasn’t,” she said.
Ali was never properly evaluated for a traumatic brain injury after the blast. In the years that followed, she experienced memory loss, emotional numbness, and isolation… symptoms she did not fully understand at the time.
“I couldn’t remember my children … I lost time,” she said.
The impact extended beyond her own health. She said her family, especially her children, felt the effects of her untreated injuries as she struggled to reconnect after returning home.
She said seeking care came with its own challenges.
Doctors initially told her her symptoms were psychological, she said, delaying proper diagnosis and treatment. At times, she said she felt judged based on how she appeared rather than what she was experiencing.
Because she “looked OK,” she said, it became harder to be taken seriously.
Ali said those barriers reflect a larger issue — one she believes disproportionately affects Black veterans and women of color navigating both military and civilian health systems.
During Women’s History Month, Ali’s story highlights broader concerns about how women veterans, particularly women of color, are treated during and after military service.
Reflecting on her career, she said she often felt overlooked and unsupported, even in critical moments.
“The system is not designed for people like me,” she said, describing what she believes are disparities tied to both race and gender.
She also described a culture where speaking up, whether about discrimination, assault or medical concerns, could come at a cost.
“I was sexually harassed or assaulted at every duty station … you just have to get up and go to work like nothing ever happened,” she said.
She said reporting those experiences often led to consequences.
“When I did speak up … it became a bigger problem,” she said.
The culture, she said, discouraged speaking out.
“You just have to get up and go to work like nothing ever happened,” she said.
Even seeking care carried stigma.
“To get counseling … that’s the end of your career,” she said.
Now, years after retiring, Ali says sharing her story is part of her healing and a way to encourage others not to suffer in silence.
“I am not invisible … see me,” she said.
Her message, she said, is not just about recognition but about change.
