One day, something hits you but you don't know what... just that something feels weird, different and awfully strange... Something's off.
So, you repress and ignore it (because that's your natural reaction when something uncomfortable occurs). But it comes back, and this time a little bit stronger, so you repress it again like a champ.
Then one day, possibly a few weeks or even a few months later, you pick up a pen to write a story about your most recent vacation or recipe you've tried, and it all flows out.
When you read it over you realize that it has nothing to do with your trip to Puerto Vallarta or the guacamole you made... but instead, it's a complete confession... to yourself.
You read the words back and you can hear yourself screaming, because along with everything else, you've repressed who you truly are.
But now, your eyes are wide open (for real this time), and that holy shit moment hits you smack dab in the face... because you can finally see.