Pop! Goes My Phobia
My fear of balloons was stopping us all having fun
BANG! As soon as the balloon popped, I started to head for the door, heart racing, hands shaking.
As phobias go, fear of balloons is a pretty strange one. But every time I saw one, touched one or – worst of all – heard one squeak or bang, I felt sick.
It’d been the case ever since I was little. At parties, in rooms filled with balloons, kids trying to make them pop horrified me.
As I got older, it became the family joke.
One day, pregnant with my daughter Leah, now 9, I had a weak bladder. Then a mate stood behind a door and…
POP! She burst a balloon as I walked in.
‘I’ve wet myself!’ I raged. But, afterwards, I laughed. I could see the funny side, knew why everyone teased me. One year, at Disney World… ‘Can I have this one?’ Leah said, pointing to a traditional latex balloon that was shaped like Mickey Mouse ears.
Shuddering, I said, ‘Er…have this lovely round one instead!’ and I picked out a silvery smooth, helium-filled foil one. Crisis averted. Only, rubber ones were everywhere!
Kids’ parties were a nightmare.
Once, in the car on the way home from dinner at a restaurant that gave kids balloons with their meals… Squeak…squeal…
‘You need to stop that with the balloon or it’ll have to go in the boot!’ I snapped, trying not to drive into a bollard as the noise went right through me.
In May 2013, I had my little boy Logan. And still, I tried in vain to avoid balloons.
Then, when Logan was 3, our childminder Marina Collins had an idea.
‘I’m actually qualified as a hypnotherapist, but I need some case studies. Will you be one?’ she asked.
‘Why not?’ I agreed, willing to try anything to get rid of this phobia.
So I sat while Marina talked me into a hypnotic state.
‘Where do you feel your fear?’ she asked.
‘In my stomach,’ I said. ‘Imagine my hand pulling it up and away,’ she said, lifting my arm.
Was I hypnotised?!
I swore I was awake, but then… ‘Take this balloon,’ she said. I blew it up, and the sound didn’t bother me at all.
Then… BANG! I burst it – and felt nothing! ‘Thank you!’ I grinned. Heading to the town centre after, I met my mum Sandra, 59. ‘I popped a balloon!’ I said. Thrilled, she ran into a shop and bought a packet of them. I blew one up, popped it. We were both in fits of giggles when my brother Gareth, 30, drove past.
‘I popped a balloon!’ I told him as he drew up, amazed.
Best of all, in May this year, I blew up balloon after balloon for Logan’s birthday.
‘I’m so happy, Mummy!’ Leah grinned.
Me too – fit to burst!
I sat while Marina talked me into a hypnotic state