John Lauer is my husband.
If I made enough money to put someone on payroll, he would be my first employee. Not in the “I’m your boss” sense of the word either, more like, “You’re a valuable asset that deserves payment for your services.”
Point of fact, I could not do what I do without John.
I would not be who I am without John.
He started this whole thing with asking me two of the most important questions of my life:
1. “What do you think of getting your concealed carry permit”
2. “Are you ready to kill another human being to save your own life?”
He’s asked me some other really important questions (like, “Will you marry me?” and “Have you ever seen ‘Big Trouble In Little China?'”) but we’ll keep this relevant to self defense.
John doesn’t like attention.
He’s a quiet man who, when pressed to take a more open role in how instrumental he is to this operation, responds with, “That’s your thing.” But its not just my thing. It’s our thing and he needs to be recognized for his part.
Like when I’m in the middle of writing an article and almost inaudibly say, “Hmm, who’s the guy who makes those holsters that we bought for my 1911 like 5 years ago?” and before I can even begin to research to that end he puts a tablet on my desk next to me with the website open and model of holster selected and while I’m reading up he goes and digs it out of the holster bin and puts it on the other side of my desk or reminds me that we sold it to that one guy we met four years ago.
I can say, “I want to take a class on room clearing,” and in the morning I will have a list of four instructors who do room clearing work, why they are worth considering and their schedules and his schedule so I can cross reference and decide when I want to go.
Every. Single. Day. Without fail, he is there, supporting me. ALWAYS two steps ahead of me and anticipating what he can do to help me.
Even though we have a very honest and communicative relationship and he’s well versed in the complexities of my past, he still has to read about them from time to time as I share them and as uncomfortable as it is for outsiders to read about some of the sordid details of my past, I know it’s harder for him. He never tells me to stop and he never tries to sensor what I write. He’s also been there in the darkest times, supporting me, loving me and helping me through sorting out how to heal, forgive and love as a survivor.
John’s knowledge about firearms, in general, astounds me.
He has a memory for all things firearms that I could only dream of and he is my first resource when I have a question or I’m confused about a make or model of anything with a trigger. He’s just as good with knives, training classes or anything else self defense related as well.
He’s pretty much the guy I hope I can one-day be… except I don’t really want to be a guy. You know what I mean.
John loves guns and training just as much as I do yet these days you won’t often see him at the same training events I’m attending. This isn’t because he doesn’t want to be there, it’s because he’s at home, taking care of our children so that I can attend. His sacrifices to take off work and stay home with the kids so that I can go and do something he would love to do always moves me and moves me deeply.
No sentiment on any card or any gift can ever show him how much I appreciate him for that. I could also go on about what a great Dad he is but that’s getting too personal. It should be said though because my comfort in leaving my children to train and instruct is only founded in a deep trust and confidence in who is caring for them. He has the hearts and respect of his children and wife and that says so much about the character of a man.
Most of all, the key to magic of our marriage is his patience with me. I’m erratic and a little too adventurous at times. I get ideas and want to act on them immediately and he neither hampers my creativity or lets me run too wild.
He understands passion but also restraint and he’s really good at gently helping me find balance between the two. He’s really good at grounding me or welcoming me home when I’ve been somewhere on cloud nine a little too long. He’s also really good at letting me go with a smile when I want another adventure, hobby or skill. He’s never judged me for who I am, what I want, how I feel or where I want to go.
Our honesty policy is unlike any relationship I’ve never experienced and that has made for a unique personal and working relationship. He’s never been afraid to tell me the hard things. He stands up for himself and never lets me make him feel bad for his honesty, even though I sometimes fight him on his opinions.
I think of myself as very independent. Sometimes, I want to believe a partnership was not for me at all. My honesty makes me admit, however, that I’d be a wreck without him because I desperately want a man like him in my life. And it’s the people you want in your life that you also seem to need the most.
For every gun under the Christmas tree; for every holster, knife, bag, or random piece of gear that showed up unexpected with my name on it; for every, “You need to register for this class,” “I’ll get off work so you can go,” and “Tell me how I can help you,” … Thank you, John.
I love you.