If it must be done, it's best done bravely.

Bravery comes one day at a time.

The dog looked up in entreaty. Liquid brown eyes begged: Take me with you. I’ll be good. Oh, the lies that dogs told.

Jenny: Ned, I am having difficulties forming the image of the woman you should marry in my mind. Tell me, how do you imagine your ideal woman?"
Ned: Oh, She's exactly like you. Except younger.
Jenny: Whatever do you mean? She's clever? Witty?
Ned: No. I mean she's dependable and honest.

The mysterious smile slipped from Jenny's lips for the barest instant, and she looked at him in appalled and flattered horror. If this was how Ned assessed character, he would end up married to a street thief in no time at all.

The performance was exotic. It was short. And it wasn't much more dreadful than the Chinese opera that had been performed last year.
"Bravo!" Ned called. He applauded madly. Thankfully, everyone joined in.
Blakely bowed, rather stiffly, and picked his way through the rows toward his seat. He didn't even make eye contact with Ned, didn't acknowledge that Ned had just saved him.
Ha, Just because Blakely had no humility didn't mean Ned couldn't try to humiliate him further.
"Encore!" Ned shouted.
Blakely fixed Ned with a look that promised eventual dismemberment. Luckily for the future attachment of Ned's limbs, nobody else took up the cry.

When someone else's safety and acceptance in society is on the line, your personal discomfort comes in a very distant second.