Quotes & Sayings About Not Being Afraid To Get Hurt

Wanted to love you. I've wanted to take all the hurt away, to hold you and protect you and make you laugh, and smile, and show you what love is. I've wanted to show you for so long that you are worthy of being loved, for exactly who you are. And I tried to deny that, I tried to convince myself ... that I wasn't good enough, that I would do nothing but hurt you. And I have. And I'm sorry. I was afraid. I was afraid of loving someone as delicate and beautiful and unique as you. I knew I only had one chance, and I was terrified I would make a mess of it and you'd only become sadder, and more convinced you were unlovable. I was afraid of my own shortcomings, and because of that I hurt you. — Sara Wolf

You and I? It may end badly. I may get hurt. But guess what? I don't care! I've never had my heart broken. Maybe I'm fine with risking it, because it's better than being afraid and going through life bored. — Jasinda Wilder

My mother never warned me not to do this or that for fear of being hurt. Of course I got hurt, but I was never afraid. — Katherine Stinson

Should I tell him I'm not afraid of being hurt? I'm afraid of not being in control. — Simone Elkeles

He thinks you're pretty." Genevieve yawned. "Guys always think you're pretty."
"Well people think you look like me," I
responded.
"They're only being nice." Her voice was hurt as she curled closer to me.
"They aren't being nice. You're beautiful, smart, and you know who you are. You're never afraid of saying what you believe in. I never want you to forget that, Genevieve," I spoke tenderly as I watched her eyes start to sag. "I love you, Genevieve. — Ottilie Weber

We're so afraid of being hurt that we become the abuser first. — Alaric Hutchinson

In the music industry I get a lot of public judgement. Any time the topic of my religion surfaces, there are always people who react negatively, telling me to leave my crazy beliefs out of it. The problem is, I can't. My beliefs are as much a part of my being as my music, or my family, or my obsession with earthy-tasting cereal. Luckily, after all the rejection I faced on my mission, I'm no longer afraid of negative reactions. I've already heard it all--- face-to-face. Hateful comments still hurt, but they don't hold the same weight they once did. Besides, say what you want, but I'm a short-haired angel. (Or at least I was to one man on a subway.) — Lindsey Stirling

Kyle, I was so afraid." Cole lifted his head from the comfort of her bosom to see her face again.
She smoothed back his wild, knotted hair. "It's you. It's you. It's you."
A crowd in the doorway interrupted their loving revelation. Nurse Susan stormed into the room.
Cole ignored them all and kissed Kyle's sleepy lips. "I love you, Kyle. Thank you for being alive. They didn't hurt you, did they?"
Kyle sighed. "They hurt me so much when they took you, Cole. That's the worst pain on earth. The worst." Kyle kissed his forehead and ran her hands over his back. "I'm your shadow. I love you too. — Debra Anastasia

Being brave is when you have to do something because you know it is right, but at the same time, you are afraid to do it, because it might hurt or whatever. But you do it anyway. — Meg Cabot

But there's another reason you can't go. You still haven't told me about your trip to Tennessee." A sudden spark seemed to light his keen eyes. "I wanted to tell you, but you didn't come, even when I gave you back your bed." She looked up, full of wonder. "You wanted me to come upstairs?" "You know I wouldn't hurt you ... dishonor you." "I - I know you wouldn't ... but ... being alone with you ... like that ... " She faltered and looked away, a furious blush staining her face. "It's not the proper way," he finished for her. She merely nodded, trying to start sewing again, but instead making a knot of her thread. He said quietly, "Sometimes I think you're still afraid of me." She looked up at him again and wished she hadn't. His eyes held hers with a startling intensity, as if daring her to deny it. She got up abruptly, nearly spilling her sewing onto the floor. "I made some broth," she said. "You'll need to regain your strength. And I'll have to see to your shoulder. — Laura Frantz

This isn't over. I won't give up on you."
"I've given up on you," he said back, voice also soft. "Love fades. Mine has."
I stared at him in disbelief. All this time, he'd never phrased it like that. His protests had always been about some greater good, about the remorse he felt over being a monster of how it had scarred him from love. I've given up on you. Love fades. Mine has.
I backed up, the sting of those words hitting me as hard as if he'd slapped me. Something shifted in his features, like maybe he knew how much he'd hurt me. I didn't stick around to see. Instead, I pushed my way out of the aisle and ran out the doors in the back, afraid that if I stayed any longer, everyone in the church would see me cry. — Richelle Mead

If manifestations of her love are overwhelming and sometimes seem imprudent, it's because the intensity of such caring doesn't exist in other areas of life. Ma does not love from behind a protective shield. I'm incapable of opening up to people in the way she does. Ma isn't afraid of being vulnerable and doesn't measure relationships in terms of what she can gain. If her feelings are hurt, she doesn't hide the pain or seek revenge. She stumbles over the setback as though it's one of life's quirky tests of fortitude and moves on without storing any resentment. — Adib Khan

I've always had a very developed superego. I also had a very powerful id, but there was no ego in the middle. So writing was always like letters sent from the id to the superego, saying, "What's going on here?" What I loved about writing was that I was totally weightless. I was amazed at the fact that I could be myself without being afraid that anyone would get hurt. — Etgar Keret

Constantly falling back into an old trap, before I am even fully aware of it, I find myself wondering why someone hurt me, rejected me, or didn't pay attention to me. Without realizing it, I find myself brooding about someone else's success, my own loneliness, and the way the world abuses me. Despite my conscious intentions, I often catch myself daydreaming about becoming rich, powerful, and very famous. All of these mental games reveal to me the fragility of my faith that I am the Beloved One on whom God's favor rests. I am so afraid of being disliked, blamed, put aside, passed over, ignored, persecuted, and killed that I am constantly developing strategies to defend myself and thereby assure myself of the love I think I need and deserve. And in so doing I move far away from my father's home and choose to dwell in a "distant country," (pp. 41 & 42). — Henri J.M. Nouwen

We're all far too afraid of being so arrogant to say "Either you can or you can't." — John Hurt

You are no longer responsible for anyone's opinion. You have no need to control anyone, and no one controls you either ... You don't need to be right and you don't need to make anyone else wrong ... you are no longer afraid of being rejected, and you don't have the need to be accepted ... you can walk into the world with your heart completely open, and not be afraid to be hurt. — Miguel Ruiz

The inner life is bruised by a running against the laws of the Kingdom. The bruises are guilt complexes, a sense of inferiority, of missing the mark, of being out of harmony with God and with oneself, a sense of wrongness. Divine forgiveness wipes out all that sense of inner hurt and condemnation. Brings a sense of at-homeness- at home with God and oneself and with life. The universe opens its arms and takes one in. You are accepted- by God, by yourself, and by life. All self-loathing, self-rejection, all inferiorities drop away. You are a child of God; born from above, you walk the earth, a conqueror, afraid of nothing. Healed at the heart, you can say to life: Come on, I'm ready for anything. — E. Stanley Jones

Even when the divorce papers had come in the mail, even when he'd finally signed them, he'd still felt married, still felt as if he had to be faithful to those vows even though they were empty and meaningless now. Perhaps that was just because he was afraid of moving past those vows, afraid of starting over. So now he looked straight into the eyes of that fear. The fear of being hurt again. The fear of not being worthy of a woman's love. The fear of failure. — Ann H. Gabhart

Hi, I'm Jude Ryder Jamieson," he began, extending his hand. I took it, shaking it. He held onto it when I tried to pull it back. "My mom left when I was thirteen. My dad's serving a life sentence for killing a young kid. I spent the last five years in a boys' home being bullied, beat, and abused by the kids, the staff, and even the goddamn dog. I sold drugs. I did drugs. I got arrested. A lot. I screwed a lot of faceless women." He paused, sucking in a breath. "And then I met one whose face I couldn't forget. I fell in love with her. I hurt her because I fell in love with her and was afraid she was going to leave me the way everyone else had." He lifted his other hand, cradling mine between his. "I still love her. — Nicole Williams

How funny we are, I thought, the way we dance about each other, each afraid of being hurt by the other. — Judith Merkle Riley

Every warrior of light has felt afraid of going into battle.
Every warrior of light has, at some time in the past, lied or betrayed someone.
Every warrior of light has trodden a path that was not his.
Every warrior of light has suffered for the most trivial of reasons.
Every warrior of light has, at least once, believed that he was not a warrior of light.
Every warrior of light has failed in his spiritual duties.
Every warrior of light has said 'yes' when he wanted to say 'no'.
Every warrior of light has hurt someone he loved.
That is why he is a warrior of light, because he has been through all this and yet has never lost hope of being better than he is.
— Paulo Coelho

Wrong Question: How to love?
Right Question: Why am I afraid to love?
Wrong Question: Why do you love me?
Right Question: Do I love myself as much as you do?
Wrong Question: Why does love hurt?
Right Question: Why do I live in fantasies and expect so much without really giving anything back?
Wrong Question: What will you do for me?
Right Question: Am I capable of making your life more beautiful?
Wrong interpretation: Let's be practical.
Right interpretation: Let's be wild and unconditional in our love without pretending.
Wrong Confession: I want love in life.
Right Confession: I am lonely and I will start by being friendly with myself first.
Wrong Advice: Mind and Thoughts
Right Advice: Heart — Saurabh Sharma

When words don't add up in love, it is because of six possible reasons:
1. They are afraid to tell you the truth because you will leave them.
2. They enjoy being a liar or playing people because of ego reasons and/or control.
3. They don't know the truth themselves.
4. They are undecided.
5. They refuse to let their guard down and be vulnerable because you or someone else have hurt them tremendously.
6. You are not being told all the information because of a break down in communication. — Shannon L. Alder

Take responsibility and make a relationship the best it can be. We're all afraid of being hurt. Get rid of that fear. Be in the moment and enjoy the relationship - or you'll ruin it. — Moran Atias

As you identify less and less with the "me", you will be more at ease with everybody and with everything. Do you know why? Because you are no longer afraid of being hurt or not liked. You no longer desire to impress anyone. Can you imagine the relief when you don't have to impress anybody anymore? Oh, what a relief. Happiness at last! — Anthony De Mello

I'm afraid of everything. Fear of being alone, fear of being hurt, fear of being made a fool of, fear of failure ... Still, I think all my fears bleed from one big one ... — Tiffanie DeBartolo

I told you so you'd see how this whole world was made for you, how it warms when you smile and aches when you hurt. I told you so you could stop being afraid. — Emily Henry

He pressed another kiss to her lips as he took her hand into his. "I'm sorry for being a jerk last night and almost making the biggest mistake of my life. I was afraid of hurting you. I know what I am and I also know you deserve a guy that can spoil you rotten and take you to all the nice places that you deserve. I-"
"Jason, I don't care about those things," she said softly.
He shook his head stubbornly. "It doesn't mean that you don't deserve them, but if you give me a chance to make up for my past stupidity, and I'm not just talking about with you, I promise that I will do my best to make you happy."
"Jason-"
"I want to try this. You and me, I mean. I know I'll most likely fuck up along the way and you'll want to ring my neck, but I want to try. I'll do my best not to hurt you. — R.L. Mathewson

Since Monday, it has been raining buoyant summer rain shot through with sun, but dark at night and full of sound, full of dripping leaves, watery chimings, sleepless scuttlings. Billy Bob is wide-awake, dry-eyed, though everything he does is a little frozen and his tongue is as stiff as a bell tongue. It has not been easy for him, Miss Bobbit's going. Because she'd meant more than that. Than what? Than being thirteen years old and crazy in love. She was the queer things in him, like the pecan tree and liking books and caring enough about people to let them hurt him. She was the things he was afraid to show anyone else. And in the dark the music trickled through the rain: won't there be nights when we will hear it just as though it were really there? And afternoons when the shadows will be all at once confused, and she will pass before us, unfurling across the lawn like a pretty piece of ribbon? — Truman Capote

But even a nice mom and dad like this can't really sense how their child's been assaulted by commercialism ever since she was little, how she's lived in fear of being eaten alive by the morons around her. They just don't get it.
Mom always lectures me about not being afraid of getting hurt, but all she can imagine is the kind of hurt she's experienced herself. She has no idea of the threats that surround kids these days, how much we're bullied, how much hurt this causes. — Natsuo Kirino