The Thing I Was Most Afraid Of… and What Actually Happened

I’m writing this from my office, looking out at a beautiful Canterbury winter’s day and taking a quiet moment to reflect on my morning.

I started driving again late last week after my hysterectomy, and it was so good to reclaim some independence after more than four weeks off the road.

Yesterday, my son (22) had surgery, and this morning I went down to pick him up. He unfortunately has a strong reaction to anesthesia, even with the gentler options and anti-nausea meds given intravenously. Add in the nature of his ENT surgery (a fair bit of blood trickling down the throat), and it’s no surprise he was feeling very unwell.

Now, where do you think I might be going with this story?

Here’s the twist: I have a phobia. Not just a mild dislike, but a full-blown fear of vomiting, mine or anyone else's. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. I have a hunch about where it came from and how I internalised it over time, but it’s something I’ve been meaning to address for years. And now, as a Clinical Hypnotherapist, I probably have fewer excuses. I know people (incredible ones!) who could help me work through it.

Stay with me here!

Under normal circumstances, picking up someone post-surgery who’s feeling nauseous would have had me panicked, sweaty-palmed, and silently praying for a 'Beam me up

Scottie moment'.

But today? Today felt different.

As I was heading into the hospital, a message came through from my son: “Feeling very, very sick.” I took a deep breath, grabbed a bucket (just in case), and headed to his ward. One of the kind nurses met me and said he’d just been sick, so she wanted to make sure he was okay before I saw him. Still, no rising panic. I was nervous but not spiraling.

A wheelchair was brought out (thankfully pushed by the nurse, post-op, I couldn’t have managed it!), and we made it to the car. My son looked (understandably) miserable, hunched over with a bowl in hand. I gently asked him that, if he needed to be sick, to give me a bit of warning so I could pull over.

But life doesn’t always give us a tidy warning. Just before our hometown, he didn’t quite make it, he was desperately trying to hold it in, but it was too much. Still, I managed to safely pull over, hop out of the car, and give him space. I took a few deep breaths of fresh air (as much for me as for him!), and once he was okay to continue, I emptied the bowl (yes - me!) and off we went.

That’s something I never would have managed a few years ago.

So, what’s changed?

I haven’t yet had direct hypnotherapy for this phobia, but here’s the interesting thing: I’ve been supporting many women with anxiety over several months. And while I’ve witnessed amazing changes in them, something subtle has shifted in me too. I hadn’t truly realised it until today.

I still have the phobia, but the intense and crippling panic isn't there anymore. I’ve taken back some control. I no longer feel the need to sprint at Olympic speed in the opposite direction at the first gag. I can (reasonably) calmly step aside, breathe, and manage the situation with compassion and clarity.

Our minds are extraordinary. Even the smallest shifts in thinking and feeling can ripple into the parts of our lives we least expect.

If you could shift just one thing today… what would it be?

I wasn’t even working on my phobia. But by supporting other incredible women to find their calm and clarity, something shifted in me too.

Sometimes the biggest changes start quietly.

Transforming Midlife - July 2025