A little over a year ago, I was rattled by a knock on my door at 9:30 at night. Not thinking, I opened the door to find a young woman who is a known herion addict standing on my porch.

She said her car had broken down and asked to use my phone or for a flashlight. I told her to wait, closed and locked the door, then got her a flashlight. I opened the door, handed it to her, and wished her good luck.

After closing the door I realized I had probably just given her light to break into my car with, so after a few minutes I went outside, walking with brisk confidence. She was standing in the driveway, looking startled. She asked me if I needed something and I said, “Nope, just checking on things.” She walked to the road and I watched as she walked until she was about a quarter mile away.

I live in a rural area, and it was no secret I was a single mom. My two daughters were inside. I locked all the doors and for the first time in my life, wished I owned a gun. I realized how foolish it was for me to open the door, or walk outside, not knowing if the girl was unarmed or even alone.

I could not sleep that night. The next day I asked around about the girls name, just in case. Two days later there was a drug bust (herion and meth) at a home about three miles away. I had seen this same girl walking along the road near there several times. Luckily, I have not seen her since.

That night I realized for the first time how vulnerable my girls and I were, and that I was all that stood between them and harm. And how woefully unprepared I was for that responsibility.

I had been lurking on a manosphere site for a few months prior, and I shared the tale in the comments section. Several well informed and obviously caring men advised me on home security basics. I truly appreciated them taking the time to do so. (I would be the first to say I did not find them to be angry, bitter, misogynistic, woman haters in any way!)

Makes and models of guns were debated, but the advice I remember most was, “you need a shorty, a glock, and a big mean dog.”

Fast forward to this Christmas, and a visit to my father-in-law to he’s home, and I notice a NRA sticker right on the front door.”Smart!” I thought. Good deterrence anyway.

I still don’t own a gun but my fiancé does, several, and while I don’t know if he has a shorty or a glock, I am sure if not he’s got the equivelant. And a beautiful big dog who loves me and the kids, but God help anyone who would ever try to harm us.

A post about bad boys (https://heartiste.wordpress.com/2014/12/29/are-badboys-the-answer-to-white-pathological-humanitarianism/) got me thinking, maybe I am not the only one rethinking gun ownership and the value of having a man who knows how to use one. My bad boy is hardly that, he spent much of his career carrying a gun and arresting bad boys, but what he is, is a bad ass. And I have to admit, I dig it that he can shoot a three bullet on top of itself bullseye and has repelled out of helicopters. Talk about a gal feeling safe!

Something else I love about him is that he’s masculine without being jerky or macho. He has a quiet but assertive way about him that I find very soothing and calming. But he’s no pushover, he’ll let me know if I am out of bounds. And he’s so good to me and my girls.

In a very weird way that gal rattling my cage opened my eyes to my vulnerability and false sense of security and independance, and to the many reasons why a fish might need a bicycle after all!

I never thought I of all people would ever join the NRA, but you know what? I want that sticker on my door, too. It makes people up to no good think twice, and that’s what the right to bear arms is all about in my mind, checks and balances.