Dear Emma,
So today is your twenty-seventh birthday, huh? How are you feeling? Is it actually as bad as you thought it would be? I know you're worried about hitting this milestone, because hey, you're officially late twenties now, and you think that everybody expects you to have you shit together by now. But all you have is an overwhelming feeling of absolutely not having your shit together in any way, shape or form. That sucks, right? And why is that? Because you're not a homeowner? Because you haven't got an established career yet? Because you're the only one of your siblings who hasn't had any kids yet? Because hell, you're the only one of your siblings who hasn't managed to hold down a relationship, either.

But you know what else is different between you and your siblings? You've been working on you. Damn girl, you're training to be a doctor. A doctor. That's no mean feat. Think how hard you worked to get here. Of everything you put yourself through. Stop beating yourself up because you don't have much money in the bank and because you haven't found the love of your life yet. Because you know what, those things will come when the time is right, and actually, you're still young. That's right, I said it. You are young. So what you're nearly thirty. It's 2018. What does that even mean these days anyway? Take credit where credit is due and appreciate yourself for you, and all of the things you've achieved so far. And stop being a whiny little bitch because your (sometimes non-existent) love life is complicated. 

Go spend time with your family. Enjoy your day. Eat all of the cake and drink all of the wine. And embrace yourself for the badass bitch all your friends know you to be, and love you for. Don't stress girl. It will all work out in the end.

All my love, always,
You x