Reader Question Tuesday - Why do you carry?

So, here's the million dollar question "Why do you carry." Asked by a reader and submitted for reader questions Tuesday (if anyone can come up with a better name for this series, I'd love to hear it!"

When I was five years old, a stranger called to me from my grandmother's yard. I did not know that I wasn't to talk to strangers and I had no reason to fear anyone. This young man, who knows, probably a teenager, did things to me that should never happen to anyone. I learned that day to fear. I learned to fear men, I learned to fear strangers, I learned to fear sleep for the dreams that would haunt me for decades.

My entire world changed that day and I could not go back, I could not change it. The stranger promised to hurt my parents, should I tell anyone, so I never did. Not for fifteen years. Not one word to anyone. Sent to a therapist as an older teen, I was slapped with the label PTSD after having shared my experience and was prescribed Prozac for my ailment. I knew there had to be a better way to combat my fears.

Always being a resourceful girl, a began researching the underlying condition and what could be done other than mind-numbing medication to better my well-being. I prayed and sought counsel from women at my church and I was reminded of my family law enforcement background and shooting with my cousins and sisters as a child.

What was my fear? Being hurt. Strangers. Being alone. Being HELPLESS. My fear was being unable to protect myself. By this time I was married, I had children so my fears were compounded, my fears were not being able to protect myself or these precious babies that God had entrusted to my care.

How could I remedy it?  Become a police officer? WHAT!? Are you kidding me? As a child, I dreaded every day, the day the school police officer would come to my classroom and tell me something bad had happened to my father. Most police officer's children experience this fear, moreso after it happens once. I had it happen twice (once when he had to shoot an addict high on LSD during a foot chase, and once when he had a car accident). I could not subject my children to fear, that is what I was trying to protect them from. So police officer was out.

So what was left? I knew how to shoot, I knew what the law said, so I bought a gun. Okay great. I can protect them and myself in my car and in my home, but I'm not always in my car or in my home. Now what? CHL. Hmmmm, now you're talking.

I took the CHL, I train, I practice and I teach my children. Owning a gun may not stop bad things from ever happening to me and my kids. Owning a gun has not even stopped all of the bad dreams. But owning a gun, training, and being aware of my surroundings has offered me a better chance against someone who is bigger and stronger than me, against someone who is armed, and against my fears of ever allowing myself to be victimized again.

Refusing to allow myself to be made a victim again. THAT, my dear friends, is why I carry.