Hello fellow Reddit dwellers. It has been a while since she shared any stories as she lacked anything new until relatively recently. That being said, here’s a story that happened about three years ago when her right to carry saved her and almost ruined someone else’s night.
To set the stage, let’s backtrack a bit. She was a 31-year-old woman working as a night-shift bartender, which meant she was practically nocturnal. Most of her days were spent catching sleep, while her nights were filled with pouring drinks and chatting with patrons. She lived in a neighborhood she’d known since she was fourteen, a place with a decent crime rate, but she never really felt unsafe. She had even gotten into the routine of walking to a nearby gas station to play slot machines with friends. However, on this particular night, she had totaled her car and was relying solely on her legs to get around.
It was about 3:30 AM when she decided to call it a night. Standing outside the bar, she considered her options: take a left to follow the more illuminated but slightly longer route or go straight down the darker, shorter path. Feeling confident, she opted for the latter. Having an open carry permit for a .38 revolver made her feel secure enough to brave the shadows of the night.
As she walked, her earbuds in, she scrolled through her phone, looking for the perfect song. The world around her faded away—until, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure. About fifteen feet ahead, a man stood lurking by a mailbox on the edge of the sidewalk. He wore a hood, which obscured his face, and the shadows only deepened the unsettling atmosphere of the deserted street.
She stopped in her tracks, instinctively locking her phone and turning off the music. There was something profoundly off about this scene. Perhaps he was simply waiting for a friend or lost in thought, but as she neared him, that theory quickly dissipated. Trying to lighten her nerves, she chuckled and said, “Woah. You startled me.”
The man’s response was chilling: a blank stare, accompanied by a shrug, before he started to walk toward her. The humor evaporated from the situation, replaced by a rising sense of dread. She took two quick steps back. “Don’t get shot now,” she called out, attempting to sound brave, but there was an underlying fear in her voice.
He didn’t stop. Instead, he paused momentarily, as if testing her resolve, before stepping closer again. At that moment, she knew she had to take a stand. With a firm grip on her revolver, she raised it slightly and practically yelled, “You think I’m f-ing around?” The weight of her words hung in the air like a tense standoff in a Western film.
Just as quickly as he had approached, he retreated, turning on his heels and walking away, leaving her heart racing. It wasn’t until she reached home that she allowed herself to breathe again. As she walked, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, ensuring he wasn’t following her. The adrenaline surged through her, and she chuckled at the thought of how the encounter might have ended had she not been prepared.
Some time later, she had another encounter—this one while walking home from a different route. It was also late, and she was once again lost in her music. As she crossed under a streetlight, a drunken teenager came barreling toward her, doing some odd dance and shouting, “What are we listening to? Where ya going?”
Mildly annoyed and still on edge from her previous encounter, she replied, “It’s late, and you shouldn’t be running up on women. Leave me alone.” The kid retorted with a careless insult and jogged back toward his friends. Just as she turned to continue her walk, she heard a thud—a rock landed ominously close behind her.
“Really?” she thought, irritated. She spun around to see the group laughing while another rock came skidding past her. “You realize you’re throwing rocks at someone carrying a gun?” she shouted, her voice steady and cold. The laughter died instantly, and the rocks stopped flying.
Reflecting on both encounters, she realized the night could have turned out very differently had she not taken her safety seriously. She preferred to play it smart rather than be caught vulnerable, and having her revolver on her side had made all the difference.
In the end, she was grateful for the right to carry, feeling a sense of empowerment that came with it. Sure, there were those who would argue against firearms, but for her, it was all about knowing she had a choice. As she settled into bed that night, she couldn’t shake the thrill of the evening’s events but felt a sense of relief knowing she could protect herself if the situation ever arose again.
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As a mom of three busy boys, I know how chaotic life can get — but I’ve learned that it’s possible to create a beautiful, cozy home even with kids running around. That’s why I started Cultivated Comfort — to share practical tips, simple systems, and a little encouragement for parents like me who want to make their home feel warm, inviting, and effortlessly stylish. Whether it’s managing toy chaos, streamlining everyday routines, or finding little moments of calm, I’m here to help you simplify your space and create a sense of comfort.
But home is just part of the story. I’m also passionate about seeing the world and creating beautiful meals to share with the people I love. Through Cultivated Comfort, I share my journey of balancing motherhood with building a home that feels rich and peaceful — and finding joy in exploring new places and flavors along the way.
