For many, the sight of a spider triggers an immediate, visceral fear. Columnist Rebecca Shaw is intimately familiar with this feeling, but she has embarked on a personal mission to change her relationship with one particular eight-legged resident: the formidable huntsman spider.
A Lifelong Fear Takes Hold
Rebecca Shaw's terror of spiders began in childhood, a stark contrast to other youngsters who found them fascinating. Growing up with brothers meant she rarely had to confront one directly, yet the mere visible presence of a spider in the same room was enough to induce panic. She recounts a vivid memory from age eight, attempting to deal with a spider on the lounge-room wall by standing at a great distance and unleashing half a bottle of insect spray—a method that failed to hit the arachnid but succeeded in annoying her entire household.
This pattern continued into adulthood. Whether dating or cohabiting, the person least afraid of spiders was automatically designated the remover, while Shaw retreated with low, keening sounds. When alone, her strategy was one of avoidance: leave the room, turn off the light, and try to forget the creature's existence.
The Huntsman: An Unwelcome but Frequent Housemate
The focus of Shaw's efforts is the huntsman spider, not by choice but by necessity. She has encountered this large, in-charge arachnid three times inside her home in just the last week. While she doubts she'll ever become a fan, her goal is more modest: to achieve a state of being "Normal" about them.
Shaw acknowledges the logical reasons not to fear them. Huntsman spiders are harmless to humans and act as natural pest control, feasting on flies and mosquitoes. She recognises them as one of nature's beautiful creations. Yet, logic struggles against a deep-seated instinct.
A Surprising Strategy for Sanity
A breakthrough of sorts came during a stay at a friend's house, where a large huntsman resided in a window frame. To manage her fear, Shaw employed a novel tactic. She began to imagine the spider as a 'girlie', one of the group, simply chilling in the sun and listening to the human chatter. She admits the idea sounds "extremely dumb," but it worked—at least a little. The active decision to reframe her perception provided a sliver of relief.
She has since tried to build on this. When confronted by a huntsman, she consciously fights the urge to flee. Instead, she focuses on remaining still, controlling her breathing, and deliberately listing the spider's positive qualities.
The greatest hurdle remains the huntsman's movement. "They claim to only have eight legs, but I believe that triples when they move," Shaw writes. The sight of their many legs carrying them at speed triggers a primal 'caveman brain' response she finds hard to override.
Despite this, Shaw is determined to grow. She asserts that these creatures have as much right to occupy a space as she does, if not more. While she's not sure she'll ever progress to the "catching one in a Tupperware container" stage, she remains hopeful. "There’s a few years left in this old dog yet," she concludes, proving that even deeply ingrained fears can be challenged with patience and a touch of creative thinking.
