When I was down in Memphis taking my course with The Cornered Cat,  I learned a ton of very helpful things and I would like to share one of those handy dandy tips with you.

When all is right with my gun it looks like this…

That is the part of my gun where the bullet comes out and in this picture you can see everything is lined up and ready to go.  Perfect.

The way I have always reholtered my gun is to maintain my normal grip, but with my finger off the trigger, sort of like this…

With my Glock and both my Crossbreed and my Remora this has always worked, but Kathy suggested that when we reholster the gun, we move our thumb onto the backplate, like this…

The point of this is to be sure the slide does not get out of whack like this…

I have never had my gun do this when reholstering until I got my new AGirl holster from The Holster Site.  The fit is snug and therefor when I slide my gun into the holster, the slide pushs back which could be a problem for a variety of reason.  By placing my thumb on the back of the gun instead of on the side, I can assure that the slide does not move and that I get a good holster. 

The woman knows her stuff, I tell ya.

To all you extremely generous bloggers who gave to the Give -A -Way, our winner Mrs. Groundhog would like you to please email her at [email protected] 

She has received all the prizes except for about 250 rounds of ammo and she is beyond grateful to everyone.  I don’t know about you, but I am looking forward to her upcoming training and seeing her in all her gear!!!!

I have had the pleasure of continuing to get to know her and really she is one fabulous lady.  We did good folks. 

Ok, please, it is important to her that you contact her.

I can not tell you how good yesterday’s post felt to write. It was my screaming, kicking the dog, throwing the plates across the room declaration that I am officially done and it felt great! Plus I didn’t have to kick an actual dog or break any plates. I think the last few months you have seen that I was pretty much there already. I really had dealt with the guilt and had moved on and was and am doing well, but when I read that email about Jeanne, imgot very angry at the bad guys of the world and the idiots that feed them. I thought it was time I wrote a strong post to the other women out there and try to use my story to encourage them to put the blame where it belongs, on the criminal. I believe Jeanne has done that, but the rest of us need to, too. I have had help in learning that the guilt has no place and I wanted to pass that knowledge and wisdom on. With that I want to share a story.

I recieved several emails last night and I was blessed by them. People are hurting and healing and I want to be sure I am clear on a few things. I don’t normally like to tell another person’s story and that includes my children, but I think this story is important because it illustrates how many times we are more gracefully to others than we are to ourselves.

This is not a story of violence and no criminals were involved. It is a story of guilt and shame though.

When a family is waiting to travel to China to adopt their child, they are often looking for ways to occupy their time and also find any information on their child that they can. One way to do this is to join a Yahoo group for that child’s province or SWI(social welfare institute, aka, orphanage). For our 2nd daughter(not the one with me that day) we did this. She was from a small mining town of just over a million people. In China that is considered small and her SWI was one of the smallest I had ever heard of. It was located in a 2 room apartment on the 4th floor of an industrial building. Less than 40 kids there. About 2 days after I announced the adoption of our daughter, I got an email from someone who said they had information on our daughter and would I like it. This is not unusual. Many times families that travel earlier to get their children will take pictures of the other children and then pass those on with any other information to the new families. When I got the email I was excited and I said yes please. What I got was unexpected.

The woman sent me 50 pictures or more along with an email that said, we travelled to China to adopt this little girl(my daughter), but found her to be no good, so we returned her. Now, at first her choice of words was upsetting, but there was a language barrier and I do not believe she meant those words in the way we might think she did. Anyway, at first I was a little mad, but I wanted information, so I was nice and polite, but as we exchanged emails, she revealed to me her guilt and shame over not adopting our daughter simply because she was deaf. She told me of how she would sometimes close her eyes and rock in the rocking chair and she could feel A’s breath on her. She said she didn’t sleep and she cried a lot. She would apologize to me and I knew she was hurting. It was tough for me to separate out my anger for her and my compassion, but in the end, I could see no value in harming her. I could see no value for me or my daughter and I could see no value for her. What good would it serve? I thoughtmif I could help her heal a little then there would be some good. I can not image a worst fate for a child than a guilt ridden mother. I was not responsible for her redemption and I wasn’t sure I could help, but I tried. I told her she made the best choice she could at the time and that she didn’t owe me an apology. I told her A was with the perfect family and that she was loved. People would tell me this woman was awful and I should tell her so, but I never wanted to do that. I thought a lot about her children and what they deserved. They deserved a mother who was free from guilt and who could focus on them and love on them. We spent about a year emailing back and forth and finally it came time to go our separate ways. I had no intention of telling my daughter about her and I felt she needed to move on. She thanked me and I could tell she had healed that year and while she may always have tears for the choices she made, I believe she isn’t reeling from the guilt any longer. I think what she did was wrong and it profoundly effected my daughter in very negative ways. In a ways it took her and us years to overcome, but I don’t think beating herself up would be have good for anyone and I wanted to be a part of the solution and not the pain.

I thought about her the other day, for the first time in years. She just poppped into my head and I thought, I extended grace and forgiveness to her in a way that I hadn’t allowed myself. Other people offered me that grace,but I kept harping on my mistake.I would take giant steps forward and then my daughter would share a memory and bam, I was right back to knocking myself around. I bet if you were a victim and you read my story you say, she is too hard on herself or something to that effect and then you go right on beating yourself up. It’s time to stop.

What good are we if we let our situation turn us bitter or into a drunks or paranoid? What kind of mother am I going to be if I sit around wallowing in what I should have done for my daughter? What about what I can do for her now? She has 6 years of me being a good mommy and 1 day of me messing up. Yes, it was a big mess up, but it was one day and she deserves to have the rest of her life without having her mommy reliving it everyday. She deserves a well rested, happy, carefree, loving mommy to teach her how to love, how to trust, how to avoid danger, how to fight. The best thing I can do for her is to let it go. It’s the best thing I can do for myself and it’s the best thing you can do for yourself. It’s time to let it go.

Whatever you did or didn’t do that day, you are here and there is plenty of life left to live. If you didn’t fight, you can fight now. Fight your way back to your life. If you fought, then maybe it’s time you stop fighting and give yourself a rest. A rest from the guilt and all the what could have been or should have been. My time table is not yours. It will take some people more time and others not as much and that’s fine. There should be a process, but if it has been several months or years and you are not moving forward then it’s probably time to take a deeper look at why and perhaps start taking those steps forward. These bad guys don’t deserve our lives, not our blood and not our joy.

I hope you find encouragement here and peace and I pray that today you allow yourself some grace.

For the past few months I have done a lot of soul searching.  Not just about that day in the parking lot, but about my life before it and my life after.  Trying to figure out why I did what I did or why I didn’t do what I failed to do.  As more and more people have read this blog and pointed to old posts they have read, I will go back and reread them too. When I am done I often wonder why did I say the thing I said.

Two things that come up again and again in my posts are my references to being “cute” and the fact that I don’t cuss.  I am way past the age of being cute in any context and I actually do not spend hardly any time on my looks. From the time I decide to get ready until the time I am ready is all of 20 minutes.  I do not experiment with hairstyles or make up.  I like being healthy and fit, but it is not an obsession, so why bring it up?

I have not been a cusser, but it was never anything I identified with.  I have never been offended by it and up until I wrote 900 posts about it, I never brought it up.  So, why did I?

As many of you know I kept most of the details of my attack to myself.  It was not until my 8 year old daughter, who was with me that day started to tell her side that I was forced to admit that, that day was much uglier than I let on.  Why?

Well, because I was ashamed.  I knew that I did not deserve the support I was getting and I wanted to convince myself and all of you that I was a “good” person.  Look, at me I am “pretty” and I don’t cuss and I just made this little tiny mistake by giving the guy money. I am not bad, really I am not.  Maybe if I said it enough I would believe it or at least maybe I could make you believe it.

At the time there was no conscious thought.  I wrote those things almost unconsciously I would say, but looking back, I can see I was looking for redemption.

It’s one thing not to fight for my life, but to not fight not for my child…  What kind of mother…everyone says so.  A mother bear or lion protecting her own. It’s natural.  It’s primal. Do you know how hard it is to sit with your child, who used to sleep peacefully, but now doesn’t. To sit there night after night knowing that you did not fight for her life?  Do you know how hard it is to sit in training after training and hear everyone talk about the stupid victim and how dumb people are, knowing full well, you are the stupid one they mean? 

I can tell you, it’s pretty darn hard.  I was grasping for things that said I was good.

I should have fought.  I should have fought, but I am learning that it doesn’t matter because either way, I was gonna feel like crap.

If you have read She’s a Garand Girl then you know she fought like hell and guess what, she has carried that same shame and self hatred around for years.  Today another blogger(I won’t say who because I don’t know if he/she wants me to) sent me a link to Jeanne Assam’s Blog and if you don’t know, she too fought like hell.  It has been several years and she is still reeling from the effects of that day. Unfortunately, she has not received much support, in fact, quite the opposite. I am hopefully that all of you will offer her that support. Neither of these women stood by and let the bad guy have his way with them, but the fact remains, even though both of them did everything right, their pain is much the same as mine.

When a bad guy does a bad thing, 100% of the responsibility for every bad thing to follow is HIS fault.  I didn’t fight. They did. And we all are writing blogs looking for answers and healing and support. I love my daughter, I do, I swear I do and I will be eternally sorry that I did not fight back, but even if I had, she would be having nightmares and I would still have a journey of healing to travel.  When good people are forced to do things they shouldn’t have to do, regardless of how they respond, in the aftermath every insecurity comes right to the surface and when one is trying to overcome something that powerful one grabs at any passing life boat to keep from sinking.  I am luckier than most, I have had a lot of lifeboats to grab onto.

I can not speak for anyone other than myself, but I am done.  I fucked up.  I should have fought.  I should have kicked and screamed and clawed and told him to get the hell off of me.  I should have made him GET THE HELL OFF of me, but I didn’t and I am done feeling bad about it.  I have decided that I will never willing allow anyone to hurt me again.  That is just not going to happen.  My children are safe because I will fight back.   He may kill me and that’s fine, but it will get real fricken ugly before he does. If by the grace of God I make it out of the fight alive, I will not feel guilty.  I will not feel sad.  I will not spend one more day letting the bad guy get anymore of my life.  Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.  Everyone has to walk their own journey and I will be here for however long that takes each you(those that have reached out to me or anyone else that needs a friend), but my prayer for you, if you were a victim of a bad guy, is that you will say ENOUGH, no more, I am DONE! I want you to say my life was worth it that day, whatever day that bad thing happened, and it is worth today.  Whatever we have to do.  Move, change jobs, find new friends, get help, cry, scream, forgive…Life without joy isn’t worth living and dying isn’t an option, so lets LIVE!  Lets find a way to live! For ourselves and to help other women heal. Lets give them good solid examples of women who said, screw you asshole, you are not getting one more second of my life.

I have done a pretty good job of healing and  I have been done with the shame and guilt for a while, but the raw emotions of that day has lingered from time to time and I am just no longer willing to let it stay there. The little remnants that are still hanging around, it’s time for them to go. That day the guy got away with some of my flesh, much of my dignity, most of my confidence and all my money except part of a five dollar bill.  It ripped and I kept it.  I don’t know why, maybe as proof that he didn’t take everything from me, but the reality is, he didn’t.  No matter how much my bad guy took from me, no matter how much yours took from you, he didn’t get everything.  Do not give him any more.

Today I am throwing that ripped $5 bill away, I don’t need it. 

I woke up at 4am and I could not get back to sleep.  No reason.  I wasn’t worried or anything, just did not feel tired, so I read for a little bit and then I visited the blogoshere. 

I came across this post and followed the link here.  I had never read the blog of Neptunus Lex before last night, but after I had read several of his post, I am sorry I missed it.  This appears to be the last post before he died. 

While reading his older posts I stumbled onto How Marines Talk Amongst Themselves.  My husband served under Gen. Mattis during his time in Iraq.  The first time was at the beginning of the war and while Gen. Mattis is a bit controversial, my husband loved him.  I don’t think he would have wanted to be a company commander during war time under any other general.  Anyway, it made me wonder if Neptunus Lex was doing his thing at the same time my husband was doing his.  Funny how certain things make one feel connected to another.

From what I read, he was smart, funny, cleaver, kind…a great American.  I didn’t know him at all, but I am saddened by his passing and I pray for his family to have some peace and comfort in the fact that they did.

I couldn’t help, but think, he was happy to be welcomed into Heaven by the Marines standing guard at the Pearly Gates.

I really enjoy reading all the blogs that are out there, but there are some I must read everyday and Down Range Report is one of those.  Today I read this and thought I don’t know.  I got very sick to my stomach and have not stopped thinking about it since.

I know what I wouldn’t do, but I don’t know what I would do, but then again…  Part of the reason I don’t carry into places that are illegal is because I don’t want to pay the price of getting caught.  I am a rule follower to a fault, but beside that I just don’t want to go to jail.  I don’t know how far I would go to defend what I believe in.  I know I believe my job as a mommy is to be here for my kids, not only to shoot the bad guy, but also to cuddle and read stories and to let my kids know nothing is more important then they are.  How many stories have we read about activists that save the world while their own kids suffer.  Is the greater good more important than the individual?  Absolutely not and yes, of course it is. There has to be people who are willing to sacrifice it all for what they believe in, if not, where would this country be, where would I be?

There is nothing more important than my children and each of them deserve to grow up knowing they are loved and valued and they need a mommy for that, at least partially, but then again, if they are growing up in a North Korea kind of country, who the hell cares or maybe it matters even more.

I would like to say that I would not hand my guns over, that I would stand and fight, but that would be a lie.  I will rant and rave and shake my fist, but at the end of the day I know I would stand there and let them violate my rights and yours.

The other day I had a check that needed to be deposited.  I did not need the funds immediately, so I decided to use my banks ATM machine.  When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that is was fairly empty and that there was only one person in line for the ATM machine.  By the time I parked and got to the line the woman who was in line was now at the machine.  She had her back to the street and thus to me.  I walked up leaving ample distance as that is the polite thing to do.  I was surprised that she didn’t turn around to see who was coming up behind her, but I didn’t think a lot about it.

Five minutes pass and she is still doing her thing.  Her back still to me and never once looking over her shoulder.  This bank does not have a mirror or even a window that one could glance up at to see who might be in line.  I take a scan of the parking lot for my own situational awareness and then look back at her.  I look at my watch and notice it has been well over 10 minutes.  Still, she stands there, never taking her eyes off of the screen in front of her.

My mind starts to wonder and I think, does this woman not know how dangerous this is?  Then I think how dangerous is it?  It’s broad day light in what appears to be a busy parking lot with several cars parked and the entrance to the bank only steps away.  Who would attack someone here?

I look at my watch again and it has now been 17 minutes.  In that time only one car has driven by and only one person walked across the lot, face down in his cell phone.  I looked around again and I saw a plain white van.  It appeared to be some kind of work van, but it did not have any names or markings that would identify it as such.

Two more minutes go by and I am agitated. I want to tap this woman on the shoulder and ask her if she realized I had been standing there?  Did she know how long it had been since she turned around to see anything?  I wanted to ask her if that white van pulled up to the curb, blocking the entire view of the ATM machine how easy it would be for someone to grab her and toss her in before she could yell.  I wanted to say for well over 17 minutes I stood behind you with a gun on my hip and if I were a bad guy, you would not be in such a good fighting position.  Even if someone spotted the van and the security cameras could track him down it would be a good bit of time that you would be alone with a bad guy. For the love of God, please take a look around once in a while.

I didn’t.  I just stood there, looking and waiting until she was done.  I walked up to the machine and did my thing, all the while taking the time to scan and look and see who the man was that came up behind me to stand in line.  I walked back to my car, looking at the cars and as I did.  I got in my car and I was uneasy.  Not for me, but I kept thinking about that woman.  It’s been about 4 days and I keep thinking about her.  I know she is safe and that is good.  I am glad I was the one behind her, but she is kind of a symbol in my mind for all the rest who don’t pay attention.  Man, how I wished she would have turned around. 

I could end the post right there…I Am Happy, but you know I am not gonna.

I did not mean for last night’s post to be a lovefest of me, but thank you all for your kindness.  The dude ticked me off, just ask my husband who sat there laughing at me as I ranted and raved. 

Then this morning I was making my rounds and read this.  Reading, nodding my head, saying yep, sure, idiot, the usual and then I came across my new little pet name “dumbf&@#” and I see a link titled “one of the best actual pro- rights activist”. I always click on the links, so I did this time as well and to my surprise when I did I ended up on my blog!  A person I have great respect for called me a pro-rights activist.  That felt good.  I started out a victim, became a gunnie and now others see me as an activist.  I will tell you what, the antigun folks can call me whatever they want as long as I have the good fortune to hang with the likes of you all.

Our side won some pretty good battles yesterday in Colorado and Maryland.

This past weekend I didn’t do anything gunwise.  I didn’t go to the range, I didn’t go to training, I didn’t even dry fire, I just hung with my family.  I did watch some cool shows on the Military channel, but pretty much I cooked and played games and did the mom thing.  The next few weekends will be spent with friends and then at the end of the month I get to meet some bloggers and so the Appleseed thing.

I have shared some very meaningful emails with new friends recently, getting to know them a little better and building deeper bonds. 

I find my husband incredibly amazing, so we have been working on my “tactical advantage” and I have to say it’s my favorite kind of prepping.

My new holster is breaking in nicely and my new gun is shooting like a champ, so I guess all I have to say today is that I Am Happy and I hope you are too!

I am sometimes amazed at the emails I get. Most are more than generous, but man some just annoy me to know end. Recently someone asked me “Why I am so hell bent on excluding men from the gun carrying movement”. First of all, that sure gives me a heck of a lot of power, power I didn’t even know I had.

I can’t imagine how any person can read my blog and think that I want to exclude any law abiding person from anything. Nothing about me or my blog says exclusion. Carry, for the love of all that is good and holy, CARRY.

Now, my focus in terms of Give A Way’s and education and advocacy does lean towards the female persuasion and this should not come as a shock to anyone, I AM A WOMAN. if this does shock anyone, you are not paying attention.

I can not do everything, no one can. I am with the entire gun “movement” that is for safe, responsible gun ownership. I support men and women who shoot for sport, enjoyment and self protection. I am for the education of youngsters and I am for less government pretty much all around, but my heart is with the women.

I will admit that I like being feminine. I like my soft curves and my gentle nature. I like when a man opens my door or offers me his coat. I like the way I feel when my husband protects me. To be loved by a man who would literally lay his life down for you is touching. I don’t think that he is the only man who would do that, but even so, as nice as that is, there is nothing more empowering, more sexy, more encouraging or more valuable then being able to take care of myself.

When I was in that parking lot, there was only one man there and he was there to harm me. I did not feel much that day other than fear, but the days that followed were full of guilt and shame. I felt dirty and I felt weak. As much as my man wanted to protect me, he couldn’t. That is something I needed to do and I didn’t. Yes, someone came along and saved me and I can not tell you how utterly un-comforting that reality is.

My goal for the rest of my life will be to help women understand that they, themselves, are solely responsible for their safety and while it is nice to have back up that is no substitute for knowing how to defend your own life, and unfortunately, for many women that will often be against the one who claims to love them the most.

I will not apologize for focusing on women and to be honest, all the men I respect are not the least be intimated or bothered by that.