Picture this: it’s one in the morning. You’re sound asleep, the house quiet, your children tucked safely in their room. Then comes the sharp crack of breaking glass. Your eyes sting from being pulled out of sleep, your head foggy, but your feet move anyway. You step into the dark and see it, a silhouette in YOUR home.
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your throat. An intruder. Someone who doesn’t belong here, standing between you and everything you love.
Now tell me, what’s the first thought that flashes through your mind? I can promise you it isn’t “What will a judge think?” or “How would the police define necessary force?” At that moment, the law isn’t even on your radar.
What is on your mind is your wife down the hall. Your kids behind their bedroom door. Their safety first, yours second. And the stranger in your home, well, that’s the threat.
In most break-ins, the intruder isn’t some harmless drifter. They’ve got something in their hand, maybe a knife, maybe a screwdriver, maybe worse. And chances are, they’re not alone. Add in the possibility of drugs or desperation, and suddenly you’re up against someone fully awake, wired, and ready, while you’re stumbling out of sleep half-blind.
Thankfully, I’ve never had to live this scene. But I’ve thought about it. And I know this: I’m no politician, no flag-waving Conservative or Liberal. Over forty-plus years, I’ve voted across the board. This isn’t about politics.
It’s about being a husband. A father. A man who has worked for everything in this house, and who will not stand by while someone threatens to take it… or worse, harm the people inside it.
So yes, I will grab a bat, a knife, anything within reach, and I will swing. Not because I want to, not because I planned it, but because in that split second, survival leaves no room for hesitation.
Here’s the reality: I’m not wide awake, sipping coffee, carefully weighing options like some courtroom or at a police station hypothetical. I’m reacting in the fog of panic, adrenaline, and instinct. For anyone to later sit behind a desk and decide what was or wasn’t “necessary force” is to judge a storm from the calm of the shore. The definition of “necessary” may not be the same to them as it is to me, even less so at that particular moment. You don’t have time to ask: “Is that gun made of plastic or is it real?”
If that means the system sees me as guilty, then the system is flawed. And if protecting my family costs me jail time, so be it. I won’t apologize. He had no business breaking into my house. Period. Taking the side of a criminal over a law abiding citizen is not right, not in that circumstance.
Because defending your home is not political. It’s not up for debate. Not in Canada, not in the United States, not here in Costa Rica. It’s primal, human, and absolute.
And when that moment comes, I will do what I deem necessary to protect my family. If there’s a price to pay for that, I’ll pay it. But I’ll do it knowing I chose the safety of my loved ones over the approval of a system that wasn’t there when the glass broke at one in the morning.
If you have ever found yourself three thumb-swipes deep into someone’s TikTok feed thinking, “One…
January is the month of bold promises and weak follow-through. It is when gym parking…
Gratitude used to be the kind of thing your grandmother kept in the china cabinet,…
There are a few things you learn quickly after landing in Costa Rica. One, geckos…
Carmen had no intention of starting a revolution that night. All she wanted was to…
There is a strange sort of whiplash that comes with being a man these days.…