A Girl and Her Guns

Warning: Gun Talk. Not the kind of Gun talk you expect, but nonetheless...Guns. I know we are not all Gun friendly, please feel free to skip this one.For the rest of you...Here goes...

I haven't always been a gun totin', ammo wastin', clip clickin' kind of gal. Nope! No-sir-ee! Not me! In fact just the opposite. Can you say terrified? Beyond frightened. I would cry at the mere sight of a gun.

I think the bulk of it came from the unknown. I was not raised with firearms in the house, I have only step-brothers that came into my life later in the game and the word gun equaled murder and death. All I knew is what I had heard. "Guns Kills" "Never touch a gun, it will kill you"..the typical.

So the story goes, years ago -almost 10, I applied for a job at a local Sheriff's office. A clerical position. I interviewed and was offered a job. Only 19 years old myself and longing to be independent, I took the job. It wasn't until I delivered the news to my father, that I realized what I had done. "I got a job!" I announced. His reply? "You know the guys carry guns, right?!!" WHAT! What guys?

Wait..that's right I had just gotten a job with the local 'heat', the 5-0. It was clerical. Answering phones, doing paperwork..but I would be answering phones for THEM, doing paperwork for THEM. Them, being officers. The ones with the shiny badges and the G.U.N.S.

My thirst for money and independence won the battle and I continued forth. Starting my new job in November 1999. I remember the first few times an officer would come into my work space. I would literally inch my chair in the opposite direction as they approached. Tears welling up behind my eyes. Fear taking over. Always watching their side-arm, I had anxiety induced moments where I feared the officers turning away from me. Convinced that if they turned their muzzles towards me that the gun could go off without warning, and I would be killed.

All of this made my job incredibly difficult. They all had them. I couldn't get a way from them. The guns, that is. And to make matters worse, they talked about them like they were just another accessory and they had a tendency to touch them..holstered, but still.

I went through a desensitization period. Each passing day I became more comfortable with each aspect. First the sight of the firearms strapped to each officers hip, followed by the chit chat. About a year into my career, I came home with a request. I said -to my father, "Don't say a word, take me to the gun shooting range.." He did. He made me empty every firearm he owned at the time, until I was comfortable.

The rest? Well, is history my friend. That one day at the range led to a purchase of a firearm, to time at the range, and ultimately led to my Front Sight experience. My views have changed drastically over the last 10 years. I've learned a lot. Became better educated. The truth is..I didn't start out this way. I had to want it. I had to earn it.