You know what’s weird? Being 27. That’s weird.
You know how I know? I’m currently 27.
For 27 years I’ve been on this planet, like everyone else, trying to figure out what’s what. As a disclaimer, I’ll give you some background on myself if in case you find yourself reading this completely and feeling like I’m totally off base.
The facts: I am 27, I’ve got the beetus [see previous post], I was raised by Asian parents in the most traditional of ways and I have called off a wedding (Spoiler Alert: it was my wedding). There. You’re on the need to know now.
Being 27 is weird because it’s just so stable.
When you’re 27, you find yourself in the perfect balance of single friends and married friends. Within that perfect balance, there’s a perfect balance of single friends who still loosely abide by the rules of YOLO and the single friends who are on the verge of becoming one of your married friends. On the other side of that scale, your married friends are in a perfect balance of planning to procreate or next in line to becoming modern-life Von Trapps.
And then there’s you. You are the central pillar looking from left to right. It’s a magical balance that happens when you’re 27. It’s science. Well, the science that is my life (Remember the disclaimer?). What’s more important to note here, you’re in the eye of the incoming responsibility storm. You’ve bypassed the obstacles that is young 20-something single (ish) life and now you’re about to step on that precipice where grown up decisions need to made. Should you be scared? Maybe. But because you’re 27, you’re able to pull off a calm sort of cool on your exterior. No matter how doughy it may be now from your post-college antics.
Speaking of college, assuming you took the typical route, it’s now been five or six years since you’ve left that place. Now you are in the midst of a stable life. Amiright? No? But you can pull it off. Why? Because you’re 27. It’s like a mystical 27-year-old haze that can conveniently convince others that you seriously have your shit together at the age that you are.
You are now no longer able to use excuses about still needing to find your footing in the adult world. You’ve been working a couple of years, you most likely pay a number of bills every month and your parents have stopped taking you with on vacation. You’re now probably starting to question your work life. Is this really where you want to be? How did you even get here? I’ve been here how long?
And it’s been ten years since I’ve walked the awkward halls of high school?! Now you’re wondering if you should blow this popsicle stand or remain the timecard-swiping clown that you are in the office you’re in. We all know you’re in an office, don’t try to hide it. But deep down you know it, Dobby needs a sock! Dobby needs to be free!
Dobby, right? Remember those carefree days where your only angst was comparable to Harry Potter’s bitchy era in book five? Yeah, I remember it too. But now, you’re well beyond the legal age of drinking and suddenly that angst has the potential of turning into a borderline episode of Intervention. But only if you let it. Now if you’ve been following, you must realize that yes, you are indeed in the magical nightlife calm. Half the people around you either are working with alcoholic training wheels on or you have the winos. Congrats. Being 27, you are in the beautiful serene where you’re having a good beer and really just don’t give a shit because that office job was just way too office today. And you know what, you really know your alcohols now. This isn’t amateur hour.
Remember that responsibility storm? It’s really a responsibility firestorm. Thunder, lightning, debris. All that stormy shit. Yet, at the delicate age of 27, you remain in the tranquil center of the storm. Congrats. You have the peak quietude in the most terrifying way. Savor it. It’s the unbearable lightness of being 27.
To hell with Taylor and being 22. Being 27 is where it’s at.