The Wisdom Of Insecurity Novels & Stories

When the clay kettle finally boiled, she stood an inch from the front door, staring at it as if she could get Andrew to open it, visualising her smile of relief and the scolding in her tone as she told him how worried she'd been. Worry was her fear. So she asked herself, what is the basis of that fear? 'Was it love for Andrew? No. That is impossible.' Is it foolish or well-founded? What are the consequences of doing or not doing the action? Does she have a greater duty to herself and others than to worry about him that much? For in this ability to question herself were the roots of wisdom and freedom from such fears.

Under her accusations, I did something completely out of place—I smiled. "You ungrateful brat! You monster!" my uncle, James White, shouted furiously. "Your grandfather adored you more than anyone, and this is how you repay him? You're worse than an animal!" "Enough!" Mom snapped, stepping forward and positioning herself between me and the others. "You don't understand. A perfect person doesn't need all those messy, negative emotions. "Elsa needs logic and control, not your pointless outbursts. And tell me, will crying bring Gregory back?"

“So they’d think I was perfect. But I’ve always been wound too tight, afraid of my own shadow. Crippled by my insecurities.” “What do you have to be insecure about?” I ask dubiously. “You’re amazing, Brooke. You’re gorgeous, you’re the smartest person I know…” “That comment I made yesterday, it came from a place of insecurity,” Brooke interrupts, shaking her head. “About the girls you’ve been with.” I press my lips into a tight line. I wish I could take it all back- every single one of those nameless, faceless she-wolves that I fucked before Brooke.

It was a terrifying feeling, like I was living on borrowed time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The weight of those words was crushing. It felt like I was constantly walking on thin ice, never knowing when someone would come along and shatter my fragile sense of self-worth. A careless word, a thoughtless comment, a dismissive glance - any of these could send me tumbling into a abyss of self-doubt and insecurity. It was like I was a delicate house of cards, precariously balanced and vulnerable to even the slightest breeze of criticism or rejection. And once I was knocked off balance, it was a struggle to find my footing again, to remember that I was worthy of love, respect, and kindness

It was very much like the portal back in the temple, the one the gods were trapped behind. “His body is behind here. I cannot pass through this gateway, but you can.” In that moment I knew I had made a mistake. Backing out now would be tricky though. Claire would think I was crazy and Joshaya might turn on me. But fuck that. People often fear being seen as clueless, especially if they are (and they usually are). I think part of the problem is that smart people doubt themselves and stupid people don’t. The more you know, the better understanding you have of the problems you face. The less you know, the more confident you are you have the answer.

He begins to give me numerous little bites that are also driving me insane. He pulls away from me completely cupping my face in his strong and gigantic hands looking at me lovely. “ I really meant it . I love you so much. I hope you understand me.”he says sincerely with some bit of sadness on his face. “ Get so afraid every time any other man gets near you. Even if it is my own brother.” he says. I know their is much more to this man than what I know already. How has that kind if insecurity just like what is in me.

I gave him one stern look and he was caught off guard by my words. I exhaled and my features softened. "I just wanna say that... no one is ever fully confident. There are insecurities crawling in each one of us. Like. Literally. Each. One. Of. Us. Take the celebrities for an instance which also includes you. They're either scared of what they wear or what they look like or do their shoes match their outfits? What if the cameras are panned toward them and they don't have an acceptable face, people end up memeing about it. A normal person is insecure because he cannot match the other person's standards and so on. You're not an exception. We're all bathed in one or the other insecurities. The o

I was about to fan myself but didn't want to break this moment. She took a breath and caressed my cheek, smiling a little as if she saw something she liked. Maybe that something was me ... No, impossible. The gods destroy the goddesses, not the mop-haired mortals who live with their noses buried in books. I was even worse because I buried myself in squared books: Reading and writing. I looked down and focused on the sheets. I was not so comfortable anymore. My great enemy, insecurity, was reminding me that I would never be enough for anyone.

I looked at the little girl once more and sighed for the nth time. My low mood was becoming even grimmer with each passing second. I bit my inner cheek harder in sheer indecisiveness. 'To know.... Or to not. THAT, is the question.' Quoted by ME. An anonymous wise man/woman(Personally I think it's a woman) once said, 'Fear is wisdom in the face of danger', and that wisdom was now hindering me from mindlessly delving into this Danger called 'Secrets'. I passed this naïve redhead a conflicted look while two personas fought it off inside my head. One of them was my 'Good and cautious self' and the other was the 'Curious and reckless self'.

“So you’re saying the person shouldn’t give up?” “My advice,” he says gently now, “is that if your heart wants something and it is not dangerous or foolish, then you fight for it. Rejection is not always a final answer. Sometimes it is fear. Sometimes insecurity. Sometimes the person simply doesn’t believe they deserve what’s in front of them. Sometimes stupidity.” “Stupidity?” I echo. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Men are especially prone to it.” I laugh again, softer this time. Then he adds casually, “Is the person you?”