stoicism?

There are areas you can take hits, and you'll recover stronger. Like a bare knuckle boxer who's skin becomes tough and calloused.

However, these are only surface wounds. If something fundamental in you is wounded, then you - the fundamental you - gets wounded, and you do not recover stronger. Not unlike  if your bones are repeatedly broken, they grow back weaker, more insecure.

The same is true of insecurities in personality. Our person(ality) is largely formed from that in which we take pride, or what we are egotistical about.
So when we are broken in areas of pride we are directly weakened as a person (That is unless this prompts us to develop alternative strengths) (We might be able to shrug off a few knocks, but in that case we haven't been truly woudned in the first place)

The only way to directly overcome an insecurity is to amputate the insecure appendage. That is, to renounce any claim or propriety toward that aspect. So for instance, a formerly excellent footballer might feel distraught at playing terribly week after week. That is until he says to himself "I don't care about being a footballer, and my ineptitude in that role is impertinent to who I (fundamentally) am." Thereafter he is capable of playing terribly without any impact on his self-image (even after everyone else tells him how awful his play is), because his self-image does not include anything that pertains to playing football.

Pride, or egotism, is the root of most of our psychological suffering. Like the 'glass is neither empty nor half full, it just is', so it is with our person. It is what it is, we are what we are. It's only once we start rating - ascribing value - e.g. full/good, empty/bad that suffering ensues.

(Feat. N.Abdelaziz)

By the chasm made from fallen dreams,
the riverbed of a dead stream
laments the life that once it held,
the tolling of a far off bell.

Beneathe the deep and rolling waves,
in hallowed fields and far off caves
There echoes, there,
what we have seen,
and everything we've ever been.
It vanishing through the veil of night
Makes nothing wrong, and nothing right
The vestiges of what we've done
Eclipsed by moon, no more the sun

So now the void is all that's here,
where no one sighs,
and no one hears
And blissfully we drift on by,
where no one loves and no one cries...