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I am someone who believes that it is never too late to evolve. My view is you can in fact train a seasoned creature, on the condition that the mature being is open-minded and eager for knowledge. Provided that the individual in question is ready to confess when it was wrong, and strive to be a more enlightened self.

Alright, I confess, the metaphor applies to me. And the trick I am attempting to master, although I am a creature of habit? It is an significant challenge, a feat I have grappled with, repeatedly, for my whole existence. I have been trying … to become less scared of those large arachnids. Apologies to all the different eight-legged creatures that exist; I have to be realistic about my capacity for development as a human. It also has to be the huntsman because it is imposing, in charge, and the one I encounter most often. Including a trio of instances in the previous seven days. Within my dwelling. Though unseen, but I'm grimacing and grimacing as I type.

It's unlikely I’ll ever reach “fan” status, but I've dedicated effort to at least achieving a standard level of composure about them.

An intense phobia regarding spiders from my earliest years (in contrast to other children who are fascinated by them). During my childhood, I had plenty of male siblings around to guarantee I never had to confront any myself, but I still panicked if one was clearly in the general area as me. One incident stands out of one morning when I was eight, my family unconscious, and attempting to manage a spider that had made its way onto the living room surface. I “handled” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, almost into the next room (in case it pursued me), and emptying a significant portion of pesticide toward it. It didn’t reach the spider, but it succeeded in affecting and disturb everyone in my house.

As I got older, whomever I was in a relationship with or living with was, automatically, the least afraid of spiders in our pairing, and therefore responsible for handling the situation, while I produced low keening sounds and beat a hasty retreat. If I was on my own, my method was simply to exit the space, douse the illumination and try to forget about its being before I had to re-enter.

In a recent episode, I stayed at a companion's home where there was a notably big huntsman who lived in the casement, mostly just hanging out. To be less scared of it, I imagined the spider as a female entity, a girlie, in our circle, just chilling in the sun and overhearing us gab. It sounds quite foolish, but it worked (a little bit). Or, making a conscious choice to become less phobic worked.

Regardless, I’ve tried to keep it up. I contemplate all the rational arguments not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they eat things like flies and mosquitoes (my mortal enemies). I know they are one of nature’s beautiful, benign creatures.

Unfortunately, however, they do continue to walk like that. They travel in the utterly horrifying and somehow offensive way possible. The sight of their numerous appendages transporting them at that alarming velocity causes my primordial instincts to go into high alert. They claim to only have eight legs, but I am convinced that triples when they move.

However it is no fault of their own that they have unnerving limbs, and they have just as much right to be where I am – if not more. I have discovered that taking the steps of trying not to instantly leap out of my body and run away when I see one, trying to remain still and breathing, and deliberately thinking about their good points, has begun to yield results.

Simply due to the reality that they are fuzzy entities that scuttle about with startling speed in a way that invades my dreams, does not justify they merit my intense dislike, or my girly screams. I am willing to confess when my reactions have been misguided and driven by unfounded fear. It is uncertain I’ll ever reach the “catching one in a Tupperware container and relocating it outdoors” level, but you never know. Some life is left for this seasoned learner yet.