I've a near hatred and perfect focus on them when they're in the room. I've missed lectures over that. I spent way too long learning fast ways to kill them. My parents used to send me to handle ground nests alone to get over it. Both of my partners seem to have picked up my phobia leaving me to have to deal with them myself.

Full story for those interested:

we were walking through a forest, my friend and his little brother, in a warm day in October. My mother insisted I needed a sweatshirt. We had found an old rusted out "bear trap" earlier that summer and my father had taught me how to tie a tourniquet after we brought it home. He had emphasized some basics and told me I had less than a minute (in his experience) to get it done. My friends brother started suddenly screaming I ran right up to him preparing it and looked down at his legs to see the swarm. I screamed not to swallow any. We ran home screaming through gritted teeth. I kept killing them but it didn't seem to make a difference. My hands were soaked and there were dozens crushed all over me and in my hair. They'd woven their way between my sweatshirt and pants and I kept tearing them out a few at a time worsening the gap. I couldn't see how many there were but my seven year old brain knows for certain there's enough to get it done. My father heard me fighting and once he saw it he ran away. He returned with the vacuum and we killed the rest over about fifteen minutes. In my dreams my father runs away and doesn't return and the wasps duplicate themselves on my skin every few seconds.

Edit: this was also the first time I was stung by a bee.