I owned a handgun.

I got rid of it when my son became a teenager and I was going through an acrimonious divorce.

I trusted my son to behave responsibly -- but I didn't necessarily trust all of his friends. And I trusted my hotheaded husband to stop short of actually shooting me -- although I'm sure that at times he wanted to.

I just didn't want to take any chances. And I slept better for not having a handgun under my roof.

Thanks for writing this essay. I hope people take it to heart.