You measure a life by who you left better. The good you do when no one's watching is the realest thing about you.
Your compass points outward. The question running under your choices is quietly 'and who does this help?' — and you'll spend yourself answering it. You're the one who stays after everyone's gone, who gives the bigger half, who carries the thing nobody else picked up. People trust you on instinct, and they're right to. The trade: a giver who never refills runs dry, and you're slow to notice you're empty. The same care that makes you safe for everyone else can make you the last person you ever look after.
Get your read — free on iPhoneyou give this freely because being the helper is also the safest place to stand — it's the one role where you never have to admit you might need something back.