I used to be so afraid of snakes that I couldn’t even say the word out loud.

Seriously.

When they appeared in my science textbooks as a kid, I would cover the pictures with Post-it notes. If a movie scene featured one, I would fast-forward through it. Even saying the word “snake” made me uncomfortable, so I started calling them serpents instead, as if that wording somehow made it better.

Looking back, it’s kind of funny.

At the time, though, the fear was very real. And unfortunately, snakes seemed to have a way of finding me.

One encounter in particular has stuck with me for years. I had a habit of letting my dirty clothes pile up on my bedroom floor — something my parents had reminded me about many times. One day, after being told again to take the clothes down to the laundry room, I finally decided to do it.

I bent down and scooped up a big pile of clothes with both arms.

That’s when I saw something move. Uh oh. I looked down and saw what appeared to be a massive snake coiled up underneath the pile.

Cue instant panic.

Another time, one found its way into our bathroom through an exposed section of the wall. I remember standing there with a hockey stick, trying to keep my distance while making sure it didn’t come any closer. If you’ve ever experienced a deep fear, you know the feeling. Your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

Over time, the fear spread beyond actual encounters. Pictures bothered me. Movies bothered me. Even the idea of snakes bothered me. I avoided them completely.

Then one day, I made a decision.

I realized I didn’t want to live like that anymore. Fear had quietly taken up too much space in my life, and I decided it was time to do something about it.

My Four-Step Plan to Face the Fear

So, I created a simple four-step plan to face it. My plan for loving snakes went like this:

Step 1: Look at ’em

The first step was the easiest in theory and the hardest in practice. Beginning with pictures of snakes, I forced myself not to look away. I searched for them on my phone. I watched movie scenes I had previously avoided. Instead of hiding my eyes, I just sat there, hating every minute of it while reminding myself I wasn’t going to die… at least not then.

Step 2: See ’em alive — at a distance

I then mustered up the courage to visit the reptile exhibit at the zoo. Oh, boy. I was never more aware of where the exits were in a building in my entire life. But seeing snakes behind glass allowed me to observe them while still feeling safe and protected.

Then something interesting started to happen.

The more I looked at them, the more my fear waned. Surprisingly, I started to appreciate the beauty of their skin patterns, the way they moved, and their place in this world as living beings, too.

Step 3: Touch the skin of one

Now, this step came unexpectedly.

A snake was found in our backyard that unfortunately didn’t survive, and I used the moment to take the next step in my plan. I touched its skin. For me, it was pretty significant. It was the very first time I physically interacted (touched) with the thing I had feared for so long.

Step 4: Touch a live one!

This final step was the BIGGIE.

At a family gathering one day, a trusted family member found a snake in his garage. Instead of running away like the younger me would have done, I decided this was it. I was going to conquer this fear once and for all.

Now, to be clear — I wasn’t suddenly fearless.

Oh no! I was still S. C. A. R. E. D.

In fact, in that moment, I was just a little tiny bit losing my mind. Part of me couldn’t quite believe what I was doing! Years of fear were still sitting there in my nervous system, reminding me that this was the exact situation I had spent my whole life avoiding.

But.

I didn’t pull away.

I stayed with it.

With my family member holding its head, the snake wrapped gently around my wrist, its body cool and smooth against my skin. One thing that immediately surprised me was how strong it was. I could feel the muscles in its body tighten as it coiled around my arm. And somewhere in the middle of that slightly chaotic moment, something changed for me.

I realized what I was actually doing.

After all was said and done, I remember being so incredibly proud of myself. And I can’t help but think that Susan Jeffers would be proud of me, too. Here’s why.

The Deeper Lesson

Years ago, I remember someone suggesting that my fear might have stemmed from a past-life experience of falling into a covered pit of asps, while being chased. Whether you believe in former lives or not, the idea fascinated me because it connected dots. And while my phobia’s origin story was enlightening, what mattered more was what happened when I chose to face it.

Did you know that fear grows stronger when we avoid it? But when we move toward it — step by step — something powerful can happen. What once terrified us can lose its grip. Sometimes it can even become a teacher. I believe that’s what the snake did for me.

The Symbol that Followed Me

When I eventually started my own business, I intentionally chose a snake as part of my logo. It might seem like an unusual choice for someone who once feared them so deeply, but for me, it represented something pretty important.

Transformation. Courage. The willingness to shed old skin and become someone new.

Over time, that symbol served its purpose. It reminded me of the journey from panic to power. Eventually, I felt complete with it and chose a new direction for my brand. And that’s another lesson I’ve come to appreciate.

Symbols often stay in our lives until we integrate what they came to teach us. Once we learn the lesson, it quietly moves on to help another soul. My relationship with snakes is a perfect example of that. What once triggered panic now brings a sense of respect — and even a little bit of appreciation.

Not bad for something I once couldn’t even say out loud.