Moths are terrifying. They swoop around crazily and it's awful. I also dislike butterflies for the same reason.
Actually, the only bugs I'm not scared of are Monarch caterpillars and lady bugs. And really tiny ants.
I had a terrible phobia of insects throughout my childhood, thanks in large part to our good friends the wasps, which I completely overcame within the span of five days camping in Nova Scotia. For some reason or other there was this staggeringly massive migration of
pale oak beauties tearing ass through the region, stripping all of the campground's precious birch trees to the bone and causing a huge rift through Kejimkujik staff on whether or not they ought to stuff the delicate balance of nature and work some sort of pest control on the situation.
Each night by the campfire, playin' Monopoly and such, was party to an endless tornado of light-hungry moths, covering every open inch of brightened surface - the table, the lantern, the game board, us - but not really
doing anything, just sitting there and enjoying whatever it is about the light moths love so damn much. There wasn't much to be done about the situation, really, as anything you killed or swept away would be replaced by another within seconds, so we just sorta came to get used to it. I realize most bugs are a bit less docile than these fuckers, but something about being literally coated by bugs for five days made me completely cool with insects... I just got that they weren't anything more than dumb, half-blind flying machines, and being able to hold out my hand and straight Snow White these woodland critters drove home how little they seemed to notice me, and how I should naturally return the sentiment. Mutual disinterest.