In just under a year I turn the big 3.0. And even though that day is nearly 12 months away, I’m already thinking about it, and doing the clichéd panic of “What am I doing with my life” and “Have I accomplished enough”. Like I’m turning 90 and dying instead of entering a new decade in my life which is actually quite exciting.

So I thought I’d write a letter to 30-year-old me and ask myself a few questions…

Dear 30-Year-Old Leni,

How’s it going? I hope you don’t mind me writing to you, but I know how much you love procrastinating and receiving post so thought I’d drop you a letter in work with a few questions…

Did you enjoy the party?

did you party?

As I write this I’m panicking about how to celebrate my 30th. I worry about picking the right venue so people will turn up, then I panic that no one will turn up and then I just think about going abroad in order to run away from the stress, the potential disappointment and the acknowledgement that it has to happen in the first place.

Please tell me that you actually celebrated it though.  And that people didn’t just turn up to see if you’d had a drunken breakdown they could film on their phone. They came with balloons and shots of Sambuca right?

How’s the job?


Right now I’m happy with my career, but have dreams and aspirations that I want to fulfil. I’d like to think that by now you’ve had an epiphany about how you could achieve your goals, rather than reminding yourself to think about it, and then forgetting, like I do now.

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Are you assertive?


Right now I’m about as assertive as an uber-shy dormouse. I rarely make decisions for myself and don’t tend to stand up for what I believe in as loudly as I should. I hope that in my 30s I’m more unsorry about being assertive and telling people what I want, when I want it and get it how I want it.

Do you have a dog?

This is Colin. Yes seriously.

If someone stole my phone they would see more pictures of dogs that I don’t own or even know, than my actual face. I will film dogs in the street and watch them back later and apparently that’s weird.  I have a doorstop called Colin that gets the best position on the sofa when I watch TV with my boyfriend. Please tell me you currently own a French bulldog called Keith and a King Charles Spaniel named Kevin?

Are you learning?


I always say that I want to study this, or learn that or get qualifications in this and that, but in my 30s do I actually do it rather than just talking about it? Because talking about it is getting pretty dull already.

Do the hangovers get worse?


I got told that hangovers get worse with age, and right now my hangovers feel like I’m being hit in the face with a saucepan, while falling out a tree while sitting on a merry-go-round…for three days. It can’t get worse than that, surely?

What’s your fashion sense like?


My fashion sense doesn’t really exist because I don’t care enough about it. I wear whatever fits me, whenever it’s clean and very rarely go clothes shopping unless it’s a special occasion/fancy dress and therefore have to. I’d like to think that in my 30s I’ll actually care and spend my money on proper clothes rather than something that will make me look like a tube station because I’m going to another train themed party.

Do people joke that you’re really old a lot?


And how boring does it get? At what point do you scream in their face?

Are you happy?


Ultimately the main thing I want to be in my 30s is happy. Not rich, not in a really successful job, just happy with what and who is in my life. I hope you have that. And a dog. Happiness and a dog.

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