After many years of a strict handgun ban in Washington, DC, last week the Supreme Court ruled in favor of an individual's right to bear arms. I've lived in Virginia most of my life, and just a few miles outside of DC -- in Alexandria -- for almost two years, so the ban has never affected me personally. I've never owned a gun, but I like knowing I have the option if I want it.

I went to a firing range last year for the first time. I haven’t been back since then, but I did enjoy it. I discovered (to my surprise) that I’m a pretty good shot. It took me a few times firing a small handgun to get used to the idea that such a small instrument could create such a loud noise -- not to mention the surge of power you feel in your hands and arms once you pull the trigger.

Would I own a gun? I’ve never specifically sought one out. In my case, learning how to handle it properly, and clean it, would need to be thoroughly explained before I’d be comfortable calling myself a gun owner (not to mention additional firing practice). So I’m definitely not opposed to owning a gun; it’s just that I wouldn’t waltz into a store and buy one without knowing what I was doing (or at least having some sort of plan).

So let’s say I sign up to take a firearms safety class. I choose a handgun that I’m comfortable with, and the mechanics of how to use and care for this weapon are drilled into my head. The next question is, do I actually need to own a gun? And that, of course, is the hardest question to answer.

I don’t see myself carrying a gun in my purse, or in my car, on a regular basis. I don’t feel like I need that level of personal security. I could see myself keeping a gun under my bed, in case someone were to break in – but how often does that happen?

Maybe that’s the problem, though. Maybe I have a false sense of security, and unless something bad happens I’ll continue to think I can go along as I am right now. After all, I don’t live in a bad area. I’ve never lived anywhere that’s been broken into while I was living there. I’ve never been physically attacked. Aside from one incident a few months ago when I had a guy follow me in his car while I was on foot (someone who was more annoying than menacing, and drove off once I finally raised my voice to him), I’ve never been in a situation where I felt like I was in immediate danger.

Some women take self-defense classes. The fact that I have a self-admitted short memory -- which means if I don’t practice something on a regular basis, I’ll almost certainly forget it -- is a big reason why I haven’t bothered to do the same. If I were to be attacked six months after the class ended, I can see myself thinking, “Was I supposed to grab with this hand, and then elbow him on this side, to escape from a choke-hold?” More than likely -- as I look back on situations that I was prepared for in advance, but rational thought escaped me at the worst possible moment (like job interviews) -- I fear everything I’d learned in a self-defense class would fly right out of my head as soon as someone got close enough to grab me.

I don’t know what the odds are of someone my age, late 20s, being attacked by a stranger. When I first moved to Alexandria and lived in a not-as-nice area of the city, I regularly carried pepper spray with me in my purse. At the time I was working a job where I didn’t get home until after midnight, and every night when I got out of the car I had my purse over one arm and the container of pepper spray in my right hand. I never had to use it, but I felt better knowing it was there.

But now? I work regular daytime hours, and I live in a better area, and sometimes I’ll even go running outside after the sun has set. Would I feel differently about my low level of personal protection if something happened to me, or if there was a known attacker on the loose in my area? Would I alter some of my habits, like running in the dark? Yes, I’m sure I’d feel differently in that case.

Options: The aforementioned self-defense class. Pepper spray. Tasers. My problem with all three of these things is that you have to be pretty close to the person in order to use them. I suspect that's the appeal of guns for some women -- you run a much smaller risk of being overpowered. It’s much easier to keep someone away from you in the first place, rather than having to react once someone already has their hands on you.

Then again, I’ve already said I wouldn’t carry a gun around with me on a regular basis, so if I were serious about protecting myself I’d probably have multiple options to choose from.

Sigh. There’s so much to think about. It’s so much easier to pretend this will never be an issue, and I can just continue living my life as I have been. But if I think about it, it does bother me that I’m not prepared. I think I should be prepared to react in some way to an emergency situation. And right now, I’m not.

Cindy at Ethiodyssey was initially attracted to the idea of owning a gun, but changed her mind.

In 1997, I took a basic NRA gun class in Pennsylvania with one of my co-workers. My motivation for doing so was that at the time I thought if I ever lived alone as a single woman, I might need a small handgun for my dwelling to protect myself. The second night of that course I shot a 9 mm handgun and it almost knocked me completely down, it was so powerful. From that moment I've never again considered personally owning a handgun nor had any interest in anything even remotely to do with the NRA. I understand why the NRA exists. However I'm appalled at the prevalence of guns in our country today. When the writers of the U.S. Constitution put the 2nd Amendment in that document that has shaped American legal and social history, obviously the public paradigms and social landscape were profoundly different.

Skye Puppy talks about Taser parties.

I really would have loved [a Taser] when I was first divorced. I had been accustomed to having a man around the house for 18 years, whose job was to get up and investigate any scary noises in the middle of the night, while I got to stay under the covers listening for any telltale sounds of a scuffle. I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd heard them.

Suddenly on my own, though, having to deal with ominous sounds in the night myself, a nice pink Taser would have felt comforting. Or maybe the purple or leopard-print model.

Erin Weed (professional speaker, author and Executive Director of Girls Fight Back!) asks some of the same questions I have about the Taser. She explains what a Taser is and what it does, and she also lists a few things women should consider when it comes to their personal safety -- she’s a fan of being prepared to fight back physically. For instance:

#2: Is [the Taser] a replacement for other self-defense? I get a little nervous when anyone’s self-defense response is a can of pepper spray, a taser or any other product du jour. You’ve got to have a plan if the batteries die or if you miss. What then? I think your mind and body are your best weapons, and anything else you decide to use is a bonus.

#3: Are you going to carry your taser all the time? A mistake we often make is to arm ourselves only when there is a perceived threat. […]

#4: Will you get training? Sometimes women buy safety products, only to FEEL more safe. This is more dangerous than not carrying anything at all, because it creates a false sense of security. Anything we arm ourselves in, we should also know how to use under stress.

Erin also has a hypothesis why women “avoid learning about self-defense and personal safety.”

I’ve been asking women from all walks of life to understand what’s holding us back. I mean, why wouldn’t any of us want to know how to save our own life? And recently it has become somewhat clear. Perhaps more women are interested in seeking peace than fighting back. Why go to a self-defense class and get verbally assaulted and pinned by a mock assailant when you can take a yoga class instead? Why choose to put ourselves in staged (yet scary) situations that all of us dread and go to great lengths to avoid? I mean, after a day of work and kids and bills and life…doesn’t a glass of wine sound a tad more soothing than fighting off a padded attacker with a palm strike?

Phoenix and Salamander took a self-defense class where she was attacked at the end by an instructor wearing a padded suit. The attack was frightening for her, but at the end she felt empowered.

I actually only remember the three minute struggle in bits and pieces. Throwing hands off only to have them grab me again and again. Using every part of my body to resist. […] Yelling and cursing, saying things that I am astonished to admit I was actually feeling. Ending up on the floor and driving my feet over and over into his solar plexus as I tried desperately to get up, terrified then.

Then the first solidly landed cross came. I have a muscle memory of drawing my fist back and letting it sail right out and over John’s chin, and watching his head follow the path of my force. I thought, holy crap, I just did that. […]

I hope that the majority of marks I will leave in this world will be positive, generative ones. But now I am aware of my capability to fight, and that I am proud that I can. And I hope that will be another part of me I can be proud of.

What do you think about your ability to protect yourself? Are you prepared?

(Contributing editor Zandria just bought a bicycle, which she loves. You can find her blogging regularly at Keep Up With Me.)