I don’t know why I’m so scared of butterflies.

But I always have been. When I look at one of those giant, fluttering beasts, all I can see is a hairy man in a dress.

I mean, sure — pretty wings.

But have you NOTICED the giant thing the wings are ATTACHED to? Good heavens.

I’m pretty sure it’s an irrational fear, but I claim it, nonetheless.

Along with my claustrophobia, my need to re-lock doors, my issues with touching styrofoam after I’ve filed my nails, my horror of the smell of microwave popcorn, my rampant disdain for brie cheese, and my problems with attempting to wear shoes all day (and not kicking them off and out a window.)

Is that not the oddest selection of deeply-rooted concerns EVER?

The claustrophobia and the door-locking ALONE are contradictory.

But since when are fears supposed to make sense?

Everyone I know has fears they can’t explain.

My friend Ashleigh can’t handle seeing anyone else’s hair left on a surface in her home. Now, sure… you could argue that this just points to obsessive cleanliness. And the fact that hair is kind of icky once it leaves our bodies.

But the lengths to which Ash will go to avoid the hair of others (gloves, bleach, refusing to use other peoples’ showers)?

Straight down Irrational Lane.

My roommate Catherine won’t go put anything in our garbage cans after dark because she fears encountering a skunk. And sure — that’s a pretty normal fear. No one wants to get sprayed, right?

But when you tie it into the fact that you can’t talk about skunks (or rodents, or most small animals that are not dog, cat, or bunny) without Catherine feeling sick to her stomach?

Yeah. A bit more edgy.

My friend Shawna could never handle wool touching her skin — not because it was itchy, but because she was convinced that she was allergic to sheep. She had no evidence of this, but I know that she once began to cry when she saw a lamb chop in my shopping cart.

Loony.

John at my office fears balloons and cows. My director, Christina, fears construction rebar, and things falling on her head.

And a guy I dated once felt shivers up his spine if he saw anyone else brush their teeth.

So.

What are you afraid of? What are your freaky phobias? And I’m not talking fear of abandonment here (this is not a therapy group… and if it is, OH MY GOSH I HAVE THINGS TO SHARE) but the goofy things that make our friends point and laugh.

Do tell!