I have a fear of spiders. I'm not ashamed of it - everybody is afraid of something. I just happen to be afraid of tiny eight-legged creepy-crawlies that I'm sure could swallow me whole if allowed to get close enough.
After Gabriella was born, I made a vow to myself that I would do my darnedest to hide my fear of spiders from her. It only seemed fair. She should be free to develop her own irrational fears, rather than having them passed down to her. Of course I would slip from time to time, and she would see me flinch before I would exclaim "Ella, come look at this spider!", but I think I did alright. I was always free to let my fear get the better of me when she wasn't looking.
Five years later, that vow I made myself has paid off. Ella is not afraid of spiders, but also understands the need for them to NOT EVER be in the house. When she sees a spider, she just runs and gets a tissue, and disposes of the insect in the proper manner - that being flushed to a watery grave. (Although I think she believes the spider is "going to his family" - whatever.)
This is good for both of us. She is still free to have her own irrational fear of mermaids (as it turns out), and she can rid our home of all eight-legged intruders, leaving me free to feel safe from being eaten alive.