You’re about to enter a room full of strangers, where you will have exactly four minutes to tell a story that would convey who you really are. What’s your story?

I’m a woman, a mother, a friend
If I like you, I’ll be with you till the end.
Even if you hurt me sometimes I’ll stay,
don’t ask me why; I was just raised that way

Though sometimes I’m the one who also leaves
the one who’ll walk out the door, and deceive
I’m a lover, a fighter, a writer,
Just trying to make life a little brighter

But I really hate talking about myself, you know,
why don’t we talk about you or so-and-so?
For there’s not much to learn about me,
I’m just a tired old soul inside waiting to be free.