patriotism

On Mother’s Day my husband took me to the range.  He took me because it is what I wanted to do.  He is nice like that.  But I noticed he was having as much fun as I was!  He was laughing and joking and all day he kept saying how much he enjoyed being there.  I was kind of surprised because he never really showed a big interest in guns before.

He had mentioned several times that he wanted a gun in the house and that I should learn to shoot, but  it always seemed to me to be an idea born out of necessity rather than pleasure.

As I mentioned before I follow a woman who goes by the name LimaLife.  She has a FaceBook page and on that page she posts all kind of helpful hints, ideas suggestion and what not.  She also tosses out questions for everyone to discuss.  Well, not everyone.  I don’t do that much discussing.  I usually, read, ponder and then ask questions, lots of questions.  Asking questions is kind of my thing.  Anyway, one day she asked a question about where would people go if they had to leave their house and what would they take with them?  I  read that and thought, Where are we going?  Why would we need to leave? Take things, for what purpose?  So, I asked.

Turns out that the bad guy in the dark alley isn’t the only thing people prepare for.  These people have seriously thought about what to do if a natural disaster happens or we are attacked by a foreign country or if it is the end of the world.  They have put together a plan of where they would go and what they would do and what they would take.  They have these little bags or maybe they are big bags, not sure…might have to ask that.  Anyway, they have these bags and I have learned they call them “Bug Out Bags”  I don’t know why, but they do.

Big surprise I had never heard of this and had no clue, so I Googled it.  You may have noticed if I can’t get an answer to my question from a person, I Google.  I like to know things.  So, I found out it is much like a tornado prep kit that one might keep in their house, but it is ready to take on the move.  Things like water, freeze dried food, first aid kit etc.  The contents can get pretty involved like a small tent, an ax, even a chainsaw, which can both serve to cut wood and kill a zombie should one come across your path while you are having to Bug Out.

I thought this actually sounded like a good idea because I live in the tornado capital of the world, so I approached my husband and said what do you think about putting together a Bug Out Bag?

I was kind of nervous to bring it up because I thought he might think I was getting a little extreme, but to my surprise he knew exactly what one was and was all for it.  In fact, it was almost like he was waiting for me to ask.  I get the feeling he has been patiently waiting for me to catch up and get my head out of my proverbial, you know where.

While watching The Outlaw Josie Wales, he practically glowed.  I said to him, “Babe, you are totally loving that I am watching these kinds of movies with you, aren’t ya?”  He looked at me with a big ol’ smile and said “Yep”

I said, “You are loving all this gun stuff and shooting?”

Again, a big ‘ol smile, “Yep”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were interested in this stuff?”

He looks at me, no smile, eyebrow raised, “You weren’t ready.”

Not only had I let fear control my life, I had placed an enormous burden on my husband.  A burden to bare the complete responsibility to protect our family.  We were a team in every other aspect, but I relied on him to be the sole protector.

While I relied on him to protect us, I severely limited his ability to do so.  I expected him to do it all with little more than a fire extinguisher.  He did not have a gun, or a knife, or even pepper spray, but I suspect he had a plan.  One he could not share with me.

The good news is that I am on ready and I love that we have found a new adventure to be on together.  Not only are we serious about protecting ourselves and our family, we are having a blast doing it.

So, we went shopping the other day to start to put together the contents of our Bug Out Bag, but it turned out to be more of a Bug In kind of box.  Bug Out means you leave, so I started calling our room in the basement that we use when tornadoes come our Bug In Room cuz we stay, you know, in.

My son informed me that stuff we bought, is way to heavy and bulky for something we would have to carry.  I asked my husband if he knew this and he said yes, but that I was having so much fun, he didn’t have the heart to tell me. Like everything else on this journey, I am learning by my mistakes.

Ok, so I bought some canned food, water, granola bars, peanut butter…a life time size jar, and a first aid kit.  We actually have several first aid kits as we do a lot of hiking and camping, but I wanted one specifically to stay with our bag.  I also bought a knife, but it is woefully inadequate, so I will need to do some research on a better quality knife and probably one that isn’t sold at Wal-Mart.

Here are some pics of the complete wrong things to buy if you are planning on Bugging Out, but not to bad if you are planning on Bugging In.

Just a little note about Blogger.  I have no idea what is going on with this thing, but they are having some kind of problem, so from time to time the site is completely down and they had to take post offs of people’s site to fix the problem. They said they are fixing it and that the post should return, but 2 of mine are still missing.  So, if you see posts appearing and disappearing and then reappearing again, that’s not me, it’s the Blogger folks.

I have watched one war movie my entire life, Saving Private Ryan.  My husband was going through Officer Candidate School (OCS) in Quantico Virginia and a bunch of Marines were off to see it and he wanted to join them. I didn’t want to see it but I love my husband, he was working crazy hours, we had a new baby and it was rare that we had a night out, so we went.

It was one of the most profound events I have ever experienced.  Of course I cried through the entire thing, but I was with a bunch of big tough Marines, and I didn’t want to be the dramatic 20 something girl balling, so I was very, very quiet.  When the lights came on and I looked around, I saw that the entire room of big tough Marines also had tears streaming down their faces and the place was totally silent.  As we walked out of the theater, I remember looking at the faces of the people waiting to go in and they looked stunned.  I think the looks on our faces was a profound statement on what they were about to see.  I literally did not speak for hours.  I didn’t say a word.  I had no idea what to say after watching that movie.

My husband had been a Marine for a while by the time he got to OCS as he was prior enlisted and he had seen combat, but it was easier for me to pretend he was simply off to camp hanging with the boys than allowing myself to think about what he was doing.  That movie made it impossible for me to pretend any longer and I hated that.

I have not watched a single war movie since.

I am not a movie or TV person in anyway.  I know everyone says that, but truly I am not.  If you know me then you know this to be true and if you don’t, you can ask one of my friends and they will tell you.  I have always been of the mind set that I would rather be out doing something cool or fun or crazy as opposed to watching someone else do it,  but when I do watch a movie or television program, I have very strict standards.  It can’t be sad, no one can die, I don’t want to think and I do not want to cry.  Oh, and it can’t be scary.  That pretty much leaves Bill Murray movies.

I have a great life and am truly happy, but life can be very sad and scary and full of all kinds of issues that weigh heavy on my heart, so when I want an escape, I like to escape to happy places.

Guess what you can’t do when trying to prepare your mind for self defense…pretend.  Nope, you have to be fully cognizant of all the awful things out in the world and then come up with a plan on how you can combat it.

In fact, they call it the combat mind.  My first exposure was at my gun training and those awful, awful videos of real life surveillance of real life people being brutalized.  I hated those videos and I was a bit annoyed and pretty darn mad that the instructor showed them without a bit of warning and I thought it was a bit over the top.  I was there to learn how to shoot a gun, not have my mind messed with.  Of course I learned at that course and many time since that it is hard to prepare you mind for self defense when you are in denial and think the whole world just needs a hug.

In contrast to Saving Private Ryan where I forced myself to block the images out of my mind, I have consciously forced my mind to replay those videos in my mind over and over again.  For years, I stopped reading the newspaper or watching the news because I did not want to know all the awful things that were happening, but now I force myself to read the newspaper and watch the news and be aware of all the awfulness that surrounds me.

In my gun class the instructor talked about the movie The Outlaw Josie Wales.  He said the main character had the right mind set and he quoted him “When things get bad, you gotta get mean.  I mean plum mad dog mean.”  This was not a guy that was going to be a victim.

For Mother’s Day my husband bought me the movie and I finally had the courage to watch it last night.

I don’t know if this is a good thing or not, but I was surprised that I was able to watch it without running from the room crying.  Now, this is really not a particularity violent or gory movie, but I once turned off City Slickers when the guy in the tent is holding the gun and talking about his best and worst day.  Seriously, I do not do violence.

I liked the movie.  I loved the guns.  I would like to say that after watching it, I could identify with the main character, with his tough bravado and dead on gun shooting abilities, but that is not me, not yet. I identified more with the old Indian friend.  At the beginning, Josie Wales sneaks up behind the Indian and the Indian goes on to explain that he is easy to sneak up on because he is so nice.  Later as the movie progresses, the Indian is able to sneak up Josie, and he is feeling pretty good.  He even says, “I am getting better.”  Then out of nowhere a gun pops up behind his head.  The Indian girl snuck up on him and he hangs his head in frustration.  He doesn’t hang his head for long and soon he is back out there, shoot em’ up and even saving Josie’s back side from time to time.

I practice and read and prepare my mind and I think “yeah, I am getting this thing.”  Then I read a story about a robbery in our town and get scared again and I hang my head in frustration.  I don’t stay there long either, but it definitely is a two steps forward, one step back kind of process for me.

Still, I can feel mind my changing.  Instead of watching someone brutalize someone else and me feeling sick to my stomach for the person being brutalized and wondering what on earth would make a person do something like that, last night when I watched as the group of thugs began to gang rape this poor young woman, I got mad and thought, “I sure as heck, hope he kills them!”  and I didn’t even feel bad for thinking it.

When I go to the range, I always shoot the targets with the bulls-eye on them or some other arbitrary image.  I never get the targets with people on.  I don’t like the idea of shooting people.  I have still been pretending.

I am heading to the range today. I am not going to get a target with circles and cross hairs,  I am going to get one with a face and I am gonna practice being mean, I mean plum, mad dog mean.

My husband thought I should go back and add pictures to my post on how I conceal carry, but that seems to require some kind of computer skills, so instead I will just give you fine folks a brand spankin’ new post on an old subject.

The pictures are awful because what my husband has in good looks and shooting, he lacks in picture taking ability.  Also, because he is fiercely protective, he didn’t take any pictures showing my face.

In case you didn’t read my previous post, let me give you a brief recap.  My everyday carry is a Glock 27.  I have an inside the waistband(IWB) Crossbreed holster. I wear exactly the same clothes with my gun as I do without it.  I am tall, but thin, so it was a bit of a nightmare for me to find a way to carry.  What I found was that I wasted a lot of time because I wear exactly the same clothes with my gun as without.  For reference I am 5’8.5″ 128 lbs.  I wear a size 4 jeans and t-shirt in a small.

To enlarge the pictures, just click on them.

Me sideways

Apparently, it takes skills just to post a picture period.  This picture is not sideways in my picture folder, so I have no clue why it turned itself on here and I did try to fix it, but to no avail.  This is good though, adds a little  dimension.  So, this is me without my gun. 

More of Me

Everything is exactly the same except I usually loosen up my belt one hole.

Now, I know it looks like am chunky here, but that is the sad, sad camera skills of my husband.

There I am, a girl and her gun…

Me

This is my target from the other day at the range.  I would guess this was about my 11th or 12th time ever shooting.  I shot with my Glock 27 which if you don’t know is .40 caliber and I think it was from about 12 yards or so.  The target was some where between the 10 and 15 line.  The crazy holes down to the left are from my first set of shots.  Super annoying, but the good news is, I got better.  Lots of work to do, but I see improvement and that makes me happy.

My Man

This is one of the targets that my husband shot.  This is from some where around 20 yards, shot with my Ruger LCP, which if you don’t know is a tiny little gun that shoots .380 caliber.  This was the worst he shot all day.  He is a pretty good shooter.  I have to say I married him cuz he is super good to me, fricken hilarious, and because he has a nice back side, but after 20 years of marriage, I discovered something new…his aim also turns me on.

I started this as a kind of journal of my experiences for the purpose organizing my thoughts and as a way of sharing my journey with my children, especially my eldest daughter.  I wanted them to be able to “walk” through my experiences and feel what I was feeling as I went from a person who was anti-gun to one who carried.  My daughter in particular is having a tough time with my transition.  She is her mother’s daughter and has been raised to think guns were dangerous.  Of course I have talked with her as I have gone through this, but not about every feeling or thought that I have had.

When I very first started the blog, the only people I told was my husband and my very good friend who lives in a different state.  I did not tell my children.  My initial thought was I would write it and  then at some later date when I thought they were ready, I would let them read my blog.

A month or so ago I received an email from one of my friend’s who wanted to know why all of a sudden I was carrying a gun.  Again, I have not told all that many people I carry a gun, but right after I bought it, I did share with my close friends.  I had just written the blog post, Who Am I, when she asked me, so I directed her to the blog. I didn’t hear from her, so I had assumed she did not read it.

I had assumed wrong.

Lets just say, she is not 100% keen on the idea.  Remember, that I had surrounded myself with like minded people, so I already knew her views and was not surprised by the strongly worded response. 

Most of what was said was the standard anti gun jibber jabber, but there were two things that stuck out and I thought were worth addressing.

The first was “Did I intend to try to convince the whole world to become a gun nut and weld a loaded weapon all over tar-nation?”(yes, she said tar-nation).  I have feelings on this, but I will address that in a later post.

The second thing that struck me was her question as to why I wrote anonymously.  She wondered why if I was so gosh darn hip on guns why didn’t I shout from the roof tops that I carry a gun??

This is a good question and one I have struggled with a bit myself.

In general, I am a behind the scenes kind of gal.  I am not shy by any means, but I am not a center of attention, I needed to be noticed, kind of gal either.  In fact, I much prefer to be behind the scenes.  I advertise nothing.  I do not have a single bumper sticker on my car proclaiming how many people are in my family, or that my kid was Student of the Month, or my political or religious views.  Or whether or not I eat meat.  I actually saw one of those the other day(I do by the way, eat meat I mean).  I don’t have my name on the mail box or my phone listed in the phone book.  Never have.  I try not draw attention to myself in anyway. In short, I have always been pretty private.

I have however spoke out before in support of things I am passionate about like adoption and the rights of children.  I have been quite vocal about a parent’s responsibility to their children and the complete and total lack of tolerances for anything less than 100% love and care of those least able to care for themselves.

I have become very passionate about the 2nd Amendment and so it would seem that I would speak about this as well and I do, just more quietly.

So, why not be more public about carrying a gun myself.  Why not put a big ol NRA sticker on the back of my spiffy mini-van?  Why not wear a t-shirt that say “Shoot First Ask Questions Later?”

If you have read any post at all by me then you know the reason I first got a gun was for protection.  I was scared and the last thing I wanted to be was noticed.  Even now after the initial paranoia has worn off, I firmly believe one of the best ways to protect myself is to be more prepared than anyone who may mean me harm.  Concealing my gun is vital to this.  Concealing my identity as a person who carries a gun is part of that too.  I do not want a potential attacker to be more prepared then me.

Instead of someone saying “Hey, I’d like to “fill-in-the-blank” this woman.”  “Humm, I see she has a gun, so I think I should go get some other folks and toss this knife aside and get my gun, so we can take her down.”  I am aware that bad guys don’t talk like this(if I wasn’t before my gun training class, I have been made patently aware since), but this is as bad guy as I get.

I digress…

I would prefer, they think, “Ahh, look at that skinny little chic,  She is gonna be easy.” Totally unaware that I am trained and armed.So, instead of said person being able to harm me, I  am forcefully and decisively able to STOP that from happening or at least I feel I have a much better chance.

I also am already extremely irritated that my 2nd Amendment Rights are being violated.  There is nothing in the Constitution that allows for gun laws.  In fact just the opposite.  That is what the whole, “Shall not be infringed upon” means, but nonetheless, there are a whole list of place I can not legally (and therefore don’t)carry my gun and I have no intention of adding places to that list list.  I do not what a business owner, who has never thought to put up a sign telling me I can’t have gun, deciding to put one up because I brought attention to the issue.

I think my strength is in my anonymity.

However, truth be told, I am not all that anonymous.  My friends know. The people at my husband’s work know.  My personal trainer and sparing partner know.  When I chose to post a comment on the NRA site, I use my real name which is accompanied by my real picture.  The one time I posted this blog address on someone else FaceBook site, I used my real name and again that picture of me.  There is no evidence she or anyone else read it, but had they put 2 and 2 together, they would know who I am. I would assume that the 100 people or so that read this blog do so because they already know me or know someone who knows me. I do not announce to everyone walking by that I am gun owner who writes a blog, but people know.

Also, I just don’t care if anyone knows who I am.

While at the beach I was working on a post and got called away.  I had left the post up on the computer screen and my 13 year old daughter saw it.  This is the conversation that followed…

Her: “Mom, I didn’t know you had a blog?”  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Me:  “I wasn’t sure you were ready.”  I wasn’t sure if you would be upset or feel differently about me and I knew I wasn’t ready for that.”

Her: ” Can I read it?”

Me:  “Absolutely”

She did it read  and every other post I had written up until then.  In fact she read everyone out loud, that day. She took great pleasure in finding my typos and is now my editor.  She reads every single post before I post it, except this one, so expect lots of typos.  I am an idea person, not a detail one.

I have enjoyed the time we have spent together reading the posts and discussing what I write.  It has meant a great deal to me, that she cares enough to read them and think about them.

The other day she told my husband that she loves to read what I write because she can actually feel what I am feeling.  She thinks I am funny too.  Nice to have someone who gets ya.

I have said before that I believe we are more powerful one on one.  That we can effect one life more easily than thousands.

This has been proven in my life time and time again. It happened when I was a college professor and I made an impact on the individual lives of some of my students. I was profoundly changed when I met my husband and was purely and unselfishly loved.   It happened when I became a mother.  It happened when we adopted our daughter who was deeply wounded and hurting.  The journey to help her trust and allow herself to be loved, was like nothing else I have ever been a part of. It happened when I was in the grocery store parking lot.  It happened when I was at my gun training. It happened last week with my daughter.

I made arrangements to meet a new friend at the range tonight.  When my daughter found out, she asked to accompany me.  She says isn’t sure she is ready to shoot, but she is curious.  She is afraid, but open.  She wants to know more about me.

The main purpose of this blog was to give my daughter some insight to her mother’s mind. To help her see that the motivations behind my actions have never changed.  That I love her and our family.  That I think she is worth protecting and defending.  That love is what has always motivated me and this is no exception.  The motivation was never to change her mind about guns.  Regardless of how she feels about guns, she has value and worth and as her mother, I will do everything I can do to protect her and myself and our family.

I do not think this blog did anything to open her mind, I think love did.

I am not anonymous to her.

I am never sure what to say to events like the death of Bin Laden. Part of me wants to say nothing.  I hate even using his name because he doesn’t even deserve a second thought, but I think not saying something is disrespectful to those who lost their lives and those who are fighting to protect us. To ignore the impact seems to somehow ignore them.  To say nothing seems like the easy way out.  To make a joke or a quip seems to minimalize the vast gaping hole left in the lives of those who have personally suffered at the hands of this monster. 

I feel like I should want to celebrate because surly this is a good thing, but I have a hard time celebrating the death of anyone. Not because he didn’t deserve to die, but because it is a glaring reminder of the world we live in. There would be no military operation to eliminate this man had there not first been the tragic and horrific events in September and many other awful days just like it.  

The pain and destruction. The price that has been paid by the lives lost and all those who continue to fight to protect our freedoms. All those children who mourn the loss of a parent. 

It makes my heart ache, literally.

I am not going to do any kind of review of guns or holsters since there are people who are far, far, far more experienced and knowledgeable then me, who have already done fabulous reviews on many different kinds of guns and holsters.  If you are interested in viewing some of those videos go to YouTube and search LimaLife Channel, Falia Freedom Channel or just search holsters and you will probably find more info than you know what to do with.

So, no reviews from me.  I am just going to share my experience as a neophyte gun owner and as a neophyte, I made a number of very critical mistakes when I first tried to conceal.

Before I bought my first gun, I did a ton of research and talked to lots of people and after doing so I ended up buying a Glock 23.  I spent all of my time on the gun.  What caliber it shot.  How it felt in my hand.  Could I shoot it?  It never occurred to me to think about how I might “hide” it on my frame.

I knew I would need a holster, but I had no clue that there were so many different kinds or that being left handed would add to the fun.

Our town is not super small, but it doesn’t offer a wide variety of shopping options, so my first outing to find my holster was a bit frustrating.  First store did not have any holsters.  Second store, does not carry holsters, but the nice kid behind the counter did tell me about a web site where he bought his holster.  The third store had quite a few holsters, but none that fit my gun or that did fit my gun, but were not for a left handed person.

I went home empty handed and deflated.  I whined a bit to my husband who suggested on Saturday we head down south to the range and then on the way home stop by the mega outdoor/camping/fishing/hunting super store.  With new hope I snapped out of my funk and looked forward to the weekend!

So, so excited, I walked into the monstrous store and headed straight for firearms where a very friendly gun guy offered to help me.

I can not under estimate how nice this guy was to me, but the entire helpful session took all of 2 seconds.

I explained my need…”One holster for a left handed person who carries a Glock 27.”

He grabs a holster off the shelf, hands it to me and says this is what you want.  I knew nothing and he is the expert, so I bought it, no questions asked.  Probably should have asked a few questions, but I was so naive, I didn’t even know there was something that needed to be asked.

A black Serpa outside the waistband holster.  Again, all excited, I rush home to try it out.  I put it on and holster up with my gun and a sweater as a cover garment…Ugh, no.  That was not going to work.  It looked like I was trying to hide a giant cat on my hip.  I needed to figure something different out.

I spent the next several weeks trying on everything in my closet in hopes I could find something that would conceal what seemed like the BIGGEST gun ever made.  When that didn’t work I tried buying new clothes. Clothes that were stretchy or clothes that were one size larger.  I tried jackets that were longer and flared at the bottom.  When I wasn’t shopping I was Googling “conceal garments for women” and while I found a lot of helpful information I didn’t find anything that told me exactly how on God’s green earth, I was going to conceal this thing from anyone who wasn’t blind.  On one rather frustrating shopping trip, I nearly bought one of those 80’s jacket with shoulder pads.  I probably would have too, but it was only in orange and I do not look good in orange.

Anyway, since finding clothes that would work, wasn’t working, I was convinced I could solve my problem with a different holster.  Once again, I ventured out on shopping trip after shopping trip.  I bought several holsters both inside and outside the wasitband and nothing would conceal this thing.

Soooooooooooooooooooo, I decided maybe a different gun was the answer.

In a desperate attempt to get me to talk about anything other than holsters and large clothing my husband drove an hour away, in a massive thunderstorm, at night to buy me a Glock 27.  And, yes, that last sentence is entirely, 100% true.  But, the good news was I loved the 27 and it was indeed smaller!!

Well, maybe not such good news. I am tall and thin and again no matter what I seemed to do, I could not conceal this gun either.

I had spent several weeks hunting, searching, and shopping with no luck at all and I was running out of time.  I had signed up for my first gun training class and strangely enough, I was required to bring a gun that I could conceal and a holster.  The class was now a week a way.

I had ordered the holster that was recommended by the cool kid from the second store, but the company is small and delivery time takes several weeks.  It had only been a few weeks since I placed the order, so probably not gonna get to me in time.

My last hope was the gun show.  If you read my post about the gun show, then you know I did not find a holster there.  Actually, I bought 3 holsters there, but they did not work.

I, did, however, ended up buying a Ruger LCP .  I had read that women did like the small size,  but that it had a pretty massive recoil and was not a range gun.  Too uncomfortable to shoot, but I was desperate and I needed something smaller. I took it to the range, shot it and to my surprise, I loved it.  I did not find that it was difficult to shoot or uncomfortable.  I shot about 150 rounds and felt great.  Thought the little thing was darn accurate too.  The only problem was that I could not rack the slide.  I went back to the trusty internet and Googled racking the slide.  Lots and lots of info on that too.  All of it tell me, it was not a strength issue, but a technique issue and with practice I could master it.  These fine folks severely underestimated me and my abilities.  I could rack the slide on every single other gun I tried. Both my Glocks, my son’s Bersa .380 a variety of guns at the range, but not my Ruger.  I was absolutely paranoid that I would not be able to rack the slide in the event I would ever need my gun.  I was not carrying with one in the chamber at this time and plus even if I was, in the event that I had to reload, the slide does not lock back, so I would have to rack it when I put in a new magazine. Days a way from my training with guns that didn’t work for me and no holster, I was pretty much ready to throw in the towel.

As luck would have it, the day before I was to leave town for the training, the holster I ordered from Crossbreed came!  It looked huge, but I thought what the heck, let me get out my gun and give it a shot.  It was very comfortable and for the purposes of the training, I could kind of hide it under a open button down shirt, so that is what I did.

The next morning I headed off to my training with my Crossbreed holster and my Glock 27.

At the training i brought it up how I loved this gun and this was the gun I felt the most comfortable with it, but didn’t see how I could conceal it on a day to day bases.  The instructor had me stand up, put my gun just behind my hip at basically 8 or 830 and put my shirt down.  The whole class was like yeah you can hide that.  I said, hide that, you can see it under my shirt.  They said, “no, you can see something under your shirt, but no one is going to think it is a gun”.

“What?”  “Really?”

I took them at their word and became far less conscience that I was “hiding” a gun.

Here is what I learned:

First, the clothes you already have, the ones that fit you are the ones that will probably work best.  I wear my same size jeans that I always wear with shirts I always wear.  Jeans, in particular, have a way of stretching to fit the holster.  Even my skinny jeans.

Second, most people are not going to assume whatever is under your shirt is a gun.  Especially if you generally blend into the crowd.  Even though I know this to be true, I still don’t feel super comfortable carrying my gun with out some kind of cover garment, so since it is the summer months, I usually will pop on a sleeveless vest over the top of whatever I am wearing.  It looks casual, is not hot, and works well with jeans or shorts or even skirts.

Third, you can probably wear a much larger gun than you think even if you are tiny…with the right holster, and maybe even more important, the right belt.  I can not tell you what a difference it made when I had a belt made specifically for the size and weight of a heavier gun.  You probably don’t need a “gun” belt, but certainly one that is pretty wide and sturdy.  The belt was the final key for me to successfully carry and conceal.  My pants no longer sagged to one side.  My hip bones are no longer black and blue from the pull of the gun.  I don’t constantly feel the jab of the holster on the left and the poke of the side buttons of the pants on the right.  While no one will ever confuse me for someone that is hip, the sagging pants look did nothing to up my cool factor. 

Fourth, knowing where you are going to carry is also key.  The first few people that advised me, advised me that I should carry in the small of my back because that spot has the most room to hide something.  However, the more I shot and practiced drawing from the holster, I didn’t feel comfortable with the gun all the way in the back.  I didn’t like it directly on the hip either because it really is to bulky in that spot for my frame.  This really impacted my holster buying because, if I carried in the small of my back, I actually needed a right hand holster.  Had I known where I wanted to carry and what worked best for my body and preferences, I could have eliminated about half of the holsters I purchased.

Fifth, not every expert is an expert and not every helpful person is helpful.  When you know nothing, it is pretty easy to not know when the information you are getting is less than ideal.  The only cure for this is experience and that takes time, which brings me to my next point.

Sixth, take your time!!!  I think because I had an incident that scared me and much of the reading I did consisted of using shock tactics, I was in a big hurry to carry.  I was afraid to be without my gun and that haste cost me a lot of time and a lot of money.  I wouldn’t necessarily recommend that you take years to figure out what works for you, but chances are you have a few weeks to figure it out.

Seventh, RELAX!!  Even without the perfect gun or holster or shirt or belt, all of the time spent shopping and searching and being frustrated and making mistake after mistake helped me to learn.  I learned a ton, not only about what worked for me in terms of holsters, but just generally about guns and terminology and the culture that surrounds it.   Learning is sometimes painful, but it never ever is a waste.