Girls and Guns

I grew up in New England. Needless to say, until very recently I'd never touched a gun in my life. For that matter, I don't think I'd ever seen a gun until Chris sent me pictures of him on deployment.

I'll be honest, those pictures freaked me out. This is my husband - what is he doing with GUNS?

Obviously I knew he was in a war zone, and obviously he needed to be carrying those weapons. I knew this in my head, but seeing it really was a gut-wrenching shock.

The closest I'd ever been to a gun was the BB gun my brother got for Christmas one year. I'm not entirely sure why he decided he wanted one. Anyway, the gun was somewhat defective. The BBs pretty much just rolled out the muzzle, landing less than a foot away. As no one had any idea how to fix it, and no one really cared, the thing was stuffed in the basement, where it probably still is to this day.

Needless to say, when Chris told me he wanted to get a gun or two or sixteen, I wasn't exactly enthusiastic. But I know he's generally a reasonable individual - even if the desert might be frying his brain a little! So I listened to his reasoning and then I went out to do some thinking for myself.

I decided that I didn't have enough information to make a good decision. To remedy this, I took a Ladies Handgun class. The class consisted of four hours lecture and eight hours on the range. I have to say, it was a lot of fun!

I'm now planning to get a gun or two myself. Mostly just to shoot at the range for fun. I'm getting my concealed carry permit, but won't carry regularly as that would be fairly difficult in my line of work. But I do want to have the option to carry if I am out alone at night or hiking and camping in certain areas.

It's also a comforting idea to have it in the house. I'm alone a lot, and though I sleep with bear spray (yeah, yeah), it's not entirely effective in an enclosed space. In fact, it would probably backfire. At 5'4" and less than 120lbs, I pose no physical threat to anyone - but I'm not willing to trust my safety to others. Maybe I'm a bit paranoid, but even if someone wanted to help me (and many people DON'T), the help will probably come too late. And if I ever happen to be in a parking garage when someone starts screaming because they're being attacked, I don't want to be among the masses of people who put their cars in reverse and skedaddle on out of there.

Bottom line? My safety is my responsibility.