In less than a week I am 29, and as I reflect on all the things I wanted to achieve by the time I was 29, I feel a bit sick. I have started having conversations with a younger version of myself, apologising for all the ways I have let her down, whilst simultaneously blaming her for every bad decision I ever made because she was the one who thought pink cycling shorts were cool.
I wondered how I could therapeutically deal with all this angst, confusion and regret other than inventing a time machine and re-living my life, and I discovered that a lot of ladies like to write letters to the younger versions of themselves full of sage warnings and advice.
Mine would be….
Dear 13 year old Ellen,
You will never become an extra on The X Files. Sorry.