I didn't grow up in a family that revered guns, my dad had a couple of shotguns, which my mother wouldn't allow him to keep in the house. There was a time in my life when I was 19, where a guy I worked with had told me he thought about getting me a revolver for my birthday. I politely declined and told him that I would probably end up using it on myself. I was a teenager who hadn't mastered or had a good understanding of my emotions, very reactionary but what teen isn't?
I'm fairly new to guns and my experience starts just four years ago. The company that I've worked for twelve years now, sponsors an Easter Seal's clay shoot each year. I didn't go for the first few years because I just didn't have much of an interest in guns due to my mother's beliefs.
The year I decided to go was the biggest change of my life, I began down a path that changed my thinking about myself and life in general. The day before the shoot, I had some serious depression going on, not sure what was going on, it was probably more hormonal than anything. I went home early that day because I just felt so sad, work even offered me the next week off but I knew that was a bad idea because sitting around the house wasn't going to do me any good.
The next day I headed out to shoot clays (I can't remember the name of the place because we now go to Colorado Clays instead). After a brief instruction on the use of a shotgun, safety, etc I was at my first station, poised and ready to try to shoot my first clay, BAM! and it was a hit. The feeling inside of such power. Long story short, I've not felt depressed since that day and I go with my company every year to the shoot with the intentions of doing better than the year before and I do.
A funny note on that day, after I got home; sore, tired but ecstatic I immediately posted to my facebook account about how much I loved guns, than proceeded to read my friend's posts only to come across a post from my mom that was anti-gun. I found this humorous.
I think a year or two later my coworker took me to a gun range to shoot handguns, this was my first experience with a handgun. After firing one I realized that there was no way I could ever use such a weapon on myself. I didn't take to handguns as quickly as I did to shotguns until the mid part of 2012 when I met a guy who is a gun nut and owns a lot of guns. He took me out shooting regularly and I found that I really enjoyed it, I have shot so many different calibers but my truest love is the .45, mmmm purrr. It was nice to get such a broad range of calibers and really decide what I liked best.
Getting my CCW was an idea I started to play with but honestly probably wouldn't have followed through if it were not for an ex boyfriend going scary and my feeling threatened. So in December I took the step of signing up for a CCW class to get my certificate. Side note: I was not impressed with the class and the trainer, he seemed to want to share stories more than information but honestly I was just happy to get my certificate.
Once I got my certificate, I called the Denver Sheriff's department to register, turns out it takes two months to get an appointment just to register, do fingerprints and pictures and another ninety days to actually get the permit. Fortunately in January someone cancelled and I got bumped up and I currently have sixty more days to wait. I can't wait for the day I get my approval letter and get my permit.
I have already purchased a thigh holster and I've been practicing carrying around my house. I chose a thigh holster because I wear dresses mostly.