Nobody told me shooting was going to be fun.
That sounds obvious in retrospect. It's a skill sport. It requires focus, breath control, patience, and a level of physical stillness that takes a while to develop. Of course it's engaging. Of course it scratches a specific itch that not many hobbies reach.
When I walked into that range the first time, I'd already been thinking about it. Alex Pretti had been killed in Minneapolis a few weeks before — a licensed, legally carrying nurse shot by federal agents while shielding a woman from getting pushed down, his own firearm removed from his holster before they fired. And then the response from the right, the side that never shuts up about gun rights, was he should have just complied. That was clarifying. It told me there was never going to be a version of this where I was accepted by that side — gun or no gun. Meanwhile ICE was everywhere, the world felt like it was accelerating toward something, and I wanted to at least be able to protect my home. So when someone offered to take me to a range, I said yes.
Then I shot, and I enjoyed it, and I drove home with a completely different problem. I liked it. And I needed a way to reconcile enjoying something that also brings great harm to others — something I'd spent most of my life convincing myself to hate.
The Justification Trap
Here's what I've noticed: almost every piece of writing aimed at people like us — progressive gun owners, queer gun owners, people who came to this late or sideways — frames gun ownership as something that requires a defense. A political argument. A self-defense calculus. A community necessity.
And sometimes it is those things. There are real reasons why LGBTQ+ gun ownership has spiked. Real reasons why BIPOC communities are reconsidering self-reliance. Those conversations are worth having and we have them here.
But they've crowded out something simpler and just as valid:
Some people go to a range and have a good time. Full stop. No threat assessment required.
Target shooting is one of the oldest precision sports in existence. It's been in the Olympics since 1896. Hunters, competitors, hobbyists, and collectors have built entire lives around the craft without ever firing in self-defense and without feeling the need to justify it. The idea that you need a political reason to enjoy a skill sport is, and I say this as someone who spent most of their life believing something close to it, a framework that's been imposed on you, not one you're obligated to accept.
You're allowed to like this.
What "Just Enjoying It" Actually Means
I want to be precise here because this is where it gets interesting.
Enjoying shooting doesn't mean being uncritical of guns. It doesn't mean ignoring the data on gun violence, safe storage, or the ways firearms cause harm in the world. It doesn't mean opting out of the political reality that exists around gun ownership in America right now.
It means those things can coexist with having a good time at the range on a Saturday.
The version of this I've landed on: shooting is a hobby I take seriously, which means I take all of it seriously. The fun part and the responsible part aren't in tension. They're the same thing. You don't get to cherry-pick one and ignore the other, and that's actually fine, because when you take both seriously, the hobby gets better, not worse.
Knowing how to store your firearm properly isn't a buzzkill. It's part of being someone who actually knows and cares about what they're doing. Training isn't a chore. It makes you better at the thing you enjoy. The responsible ownership layer isn't a tax on the fun. It's the part that means you can keep doing the fun thing without causing harm to anyone...including yourself.
This is what I wish someone had said to me in that parking lot after my first range visit:
You don't need a reason beyond "I liked it." And because you liked it, here's what comes next.
The Thing Nobody's Writing
There's a whole ecosystem of content for the tactical gun owner. There's a growing body of content for the politically-motivated gun owner. There's almost nothing for the person who went once, loved it, and is trying to figure out what kind of gun owner they are.
If you're in that third category: you're allowed to be here. You don't have to be afraid of it. You don't have to justify it to anyone on the left who thinks responsible gun ownership is impossible, or anyone on the right who wants to assign a specific set of politics to what you're doing.
You went. You shot. You want to go back.
That's the beginning of something. Figure out what it is on your own terms.
And while you're figuring it out...store it safely, learn the laws where you live, take a class with a live instructor at some point, and know that 988 is there if you or anyone around you ever needs it.
The fun part and the responsible part can live in the same place. That's the culture we're building.
— Sinister Stash