The day I made Mel Robbins proud and Let Them.

Spider date: 07.2025.2

I bounced in the house (which is not easy for a woman my age), and I announced to everyone who had ears, “I have overcome!”

My husband sat in his chair, scrolling through Facebook on his iPad. “Good day?”

“Yes, I made peace with a spider,” I said, my face creased in a pirate’s smile.

My husband nodded. “Really,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Yes, yes I did. I walked in the storage shed, and there was white spider sitting on the wall next to the light switch, and I let him.” I said. Mel Robbins would be so proud.

It was an unusual spider; I had to admit. Yellow-white like a bone left out in the sun. He was kind of hitched up on one side, his legs splayed out. Still as death, but with spiders, you never could tell. They fake death sometimes, being so still to entice their victims into thinking their dead, getting close enough to poke the spider body, causing them to jump onto your hand.

Terrifying.

“You let him?”

“Yes, I let him stay there. I didn’t spray him with Raid, brush him off with a broom, smash him with a shoe, burn him with the lighter or any of those things. I let him stay there.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Uh huh, and was this just today?”

“No, that’s the best part. It’s been all week. He hasn’t even moved from the spot,” I said, slapping the counter with my palm. “I have overcome!”

My husband put down the iPad and turned to me. “Ok, he hasn’t moved at all?”

I paused, considering my next words. “Well no, but they fake death all the time.” From what I could remember, he was poised in that same “I’m going to pounce on you and drain the life from your body posture that most spiders exhibited daily.

“You don’t think it’s odd that it hasn’t moved?”

I tensed. If I had pearls on, I would have clutched them. “No. I mean if it was dead, why would it be stuck to the wall? Wouldn’t it just fall on the ground and let nature take its course?”

He shrugged and turned back to the pointer-finger scroll on the iPad.

I shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “I don’t think he’s dead, and even if he is, I still made peace.”

“Proud of you honey,” my husband said, still scrolling. “Since you’ve made peace, did you get the mail?

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