At least in my heart I am. I have never actually been hunting, but I have wanted to for a year, longer really.
I have always known where my food came from and I have never had a problem with it. Well, once when I was about 11. I decided to become a vegetarian because I saw something on TV about the killing of animals and it made me sad. I was not very committed though because on the third night of my conversion my mom made tacos and the smell of the hamburger was too much for me to handle. I am not a big portion eater, but I think I ate 4 tacos that night and have been a carnivore ever since.
When I was younger I did a lot of camping and fishing with my dad. My dad would catch a fish, gut it, clean it, and then cook it. That never was a problem for me. I wasn’t grossed out. We ate a lot of trout from the Truckee River.
On my journey this year I have tried to pin point my thoughts and how I came to be who I was. I also wondered why I so quickly fell in love with shooting and the life style that surrounds it. The bad guy thing aside, I am a full fledged gun enthusiast. A few people have said to me that they are waiting for this gun phase to pass. They have been thinking once I got over the ordeal of the parking lot, I would slide back into the routine of my life and guns would not be such a central focus. I have bad news for them…Not. Gonna. Happen.
There is a sense of calm and peace about me now that is separate from feeling like I can defend myself. It is more like I found a part of me I lost. As a kid, I loved to hike and be outside. I don’t remember being afraid of guns. I don’t remember it becoming an issue in our home until I was a little older. I think that I allowed myself to become something I really wasn’t.
I loved my life. I was happy and confident and didn’t feel I was missing anything. I had no longing to find a missing part of myself. I thought I knew who I was and I liked it. I liked being delicate and soft. I liked being taken care of. I identified with that person and I liked her. I liked her so much it took me sometime to let her go, but I think I have always been more. I think over time between my violent childhood and the brainwashing of my family, I buried a part of me. I think I am fighter. I think I am a survivor. I think I am hunter. I think I always have been.
Once I got over my aversion to guns and all things associated with them, I immediately said, “I want to go hunting.”
Problem was I didn’t know anyone who hunted. But, now, I do.
The other day I was reading a post by Weer’d and read a comment left by Zercool. He was talking to Weer’d, “Come hunting with me this fall” or something close to that. I then left a comment saying I wanted to tag along. To my surprise and delight, Zerccol said, come! I sent him an email saying I was serious and he said great and sent me a link to his blog where he talks about preparing for a hunt and all that goes into the actual day and what happens afterwards. Very interesting! Beyond excited.
The next day I get a call from my husband telling me his has good news for me. He was talking with a friend who asked about me? How is the wife kind of thing. My husband tells him I very well and that I am a now a gunnie. He tells him I am all pumped up to go hunting later this year with new friends. My husband’s friend is completely blown away because we haven’t seen each other in years and he remembers me fondly, but he also remembers me as a “delicate” prim and proper, not a violent bone in her body kind of gal. Anyway, he tells my husband, “I will take her hunting.”
He has some books on hunting he wants me to read and then his plan is to take me along with him on his hunts. I think my husband is going to come too. He says we can hunt for turkey and deer, which apparently are much smaller than the deer where I will, hopefully, be hunting with Zercool. He says a person has to shoot 6 Virginia deer just to make a sandwich. He also hunts dove and black bear. Don’t know that he has ever shot a black bear, but they do have bear on Quantico and it is legal to hunt to them. I think it would be hysterical if the first year I went hunting I saw and shot a black bear. Don’t laugh…I dream BIG people.
Now, I need to sign up for a Hunter’s Safety Course, get my licenses, get a gun or two and do lots and lots of reading. I am living the life!!