I want to hide in my secret corner and examine this new thing, reviewing my memories and experiences for evidence that this realization is actually true of me.
Sometimes it's exciting to behold a new facet of myself, and I take delight in gazing in my new mirror. Sometimes it's humiliating, and I want to squeeze my eyes shut till the pain gets buried away.
When a realization hurts, time slows--time doesn't want me to miss out on feeling every excruciating part of it. Time is generous like that.
Do I choose to bury the hurt, where it might take root and flourish in me? Or do I pluck it out, hold it up, and expose it to the light long enough that it dries up and becomes dust?