10/06/2014 11:06 BST | Updated 10/08/2014 06:59 BST

How Much Are YOU Worth?

Had a stressful week (as I type this on Tuesday) and it's got me thinking about SELF WORTH.

I'm a believer in karma. I also genuinely get a kick out of helping people and making people happy. Call me the younger, delectable Mother Teresa if you insist.

Lately though, this me helping people has bit me firmly on the arsenal, and its got me wondering if I am selling myself too short.

As a teenager and in our 20's women are told by their mums and gal pals (last time I'll ever type those words, shudder), to 'know your worth'. How many times have you cried over some bellend only for a mate to say 'bebz, he ain't worth it, you are worth ten times him.' So you would think, by now, we should all know what we have been preached on, we should all have some idea what were worth. But I don't have a scooby . Not regarding men anymore luckily, I think all my mates have luckily grown out of that faze (I barely did it). But with everything else. With myself, my job, my time, my money in some cases. I am too quick to give it all out and then too upset when it's not even appreciated, let alone returned. I rarely ask for it back because I enjoy people calling me, asking me for help. I rarely go a day without someone phoning me for something. When I have a friend that benefits from my help or the time I've given and are grateful, I like feeling brilliant. I ENJOY knowing I made someone's life easier or better. But with generosity often comes the flip side and lately, to quote Danny Dyer, I've felt a bit, well muggedoff.

It's no ones fault. If I offer to do something, who is anyone to turn that down? As anyone who's been to a bar with me knows, I'll always offer first to grab the bill even if it's just to avoid that awkward moment. Me feeling 'mugged off' is entirely my fault and no one else's. It's me not knowing what my self is worth.

So on that note, as I'm still none the wiser, I am just going to hedge my bets and predict I'm worth a shed load and see where that gets me. After all, there's only one of me to sell anyway.

This time next year, we'll be billionaires.

Or not.