I’m not usually one for writing prompts, but as I was making my usual blog rounds today, I came across one that I can’t get out of my mind. It was the post here at http://ralphwaldoemerson.me/gwen-bell.  The idea is that you have 15 minutes to live, set a timer and tell the story that needs to be told.

I could talk about my family, how much I love them, what I want for my kids, etc. And if I really knew I only had 15 minutes left, I’d do just that. Because, really, who uses their last 15 minutes of life to write a blog post?

Hopefully I have a little more time than that, so here’s what I’d want to tell the world.

I am not who you think I am. I am not who you have decided I will be. I am not your funny fat friend who will always answer the call when your real friends are busy. I am not the person who will always be here when you need something, but willing to be shoved aside when you don’t. I am not always sarcastic, dry, unfeeling and without emotion. I am not arrogant or self-centered and happy not having friends. I am not without talent, I am not without creativity, I am not okay with you taking my ideas and claiming them as your own because you know I’ll never have the guts to call you out on it. I am not your doormat. I am not the child or the teenager you have known since the day I was born. No. These are the labels you have created for me because you were unwilling to get to know me, you never deemed me worthy of the time it took to see the real me.

Who am I? I am an introvert. I am self conscious and afraid to put myself out there for fear of your rejection. But when you do accept me, I am a fiercely loyal friend. I go the extra mile for the people I love. I am emotional, I am kindhearted, I love unconditionally. I cry in sad movies, I cry when my friends hurt, I cry because I just need to cry. I am worth being the first person you call, I am worth being more than an afterthought. I am a professional, I do some things better than you because I spent the time in school learning to do it the right way. I am okay with not being the best at everything, because no one is. I am creative, I am talented, and my work is worth more than you will admit. I am an adult, I am a good mother, and I am just as worth someone’s time as anyone else.

I am worth far more than you have ever acknowledged.

And whether I have 15 minutes or 50 years, I am disappointed that it will always be this way.