At the end of this month, I will be gracefully bulldozing my way into my "late twenties". I'm not quite sure what happened to my mid-twenties and the jury is still out on whether or not my early twenties actually happened. I have the hardest time convincing myself that high school was ten years ago and 1990 was not! So in light of my twenty-seventh birthday, here are eight inevitable facts about your late twenties.
1. You are no longer the youngest person in the room.
Your co-workers, friends of friends, and pretty much any stranger you meet while out for drinks is suddenly younger than you. Because of the way my birthday fell, I was always the youngest in my class. I graduated at seventeen and of course at the time being young was such a tragedy. Now I'd give anything to be "the baby" of the group again. Instead, I'm the one giving motherly advice and saying things like "Oh honey, you just wait."
2. I can’t remember the last time I was asked for ID.
Granted, I don’t do a whole lot in my old age that requires my identification, but on the rare times I want to enjoy a bottle (or glass) of wine, no one questions my age. No, it doesn’t feel flattering at first, but it’s quite convenient at the end of a long day.
3. You actually want to talk about insurance.
Please? Anyone? Does anybody actually know what they’re doing and can they help me understand it too?
4. Bedtimes are a thing and they’re beautiful!
Long gone are the days of pulling all nighters and frequenting waffle house at 4 am. I have traded in my late night plans for sweatpants and Netflix, which I responsibly turn off during week nights so I can make it to bed by (prepare yourself) 9 o’clock!
5. I don’t dress up to run errands.
I use to not leave the house without a full face of makeup and a cute outfit just in case I ran into anyone I knew in town. I’ve come to realize that no matter how much lipstick I apply, I will only run into old flames and the popular girls from school when I look my worst. It’s called life and sometimes it doesn’t care that you’re in your husbands flannel for the third day in a row. No amount of eye shadow protects you from the way the world works. So go for comfy.
6. You have zero time for drama.
It happens practically over night. One day you just wake up and you start to cut people off who bring negativity into your world. It’s a little hard at first because sometimes the people you need to let go of are the people you thought you’d have around forever. But something snaps in you and you just want peace. I have found that the people I’ve cut from my life were the very ones who handed me the scissors. And I can testify that things have worked out for the better.
7. Mortality is real and you know it.
I can remember a time when I wasn't scared of anything. I've jumped off of bridges, rode on the backs of motorcycles, snuck out of the house with a boy (oh, the shame!). I've driven down every dirt road in this town without a seat belt or a care in the world. I've loved too hard and forgiven too easily. I've stayed out too late and drank too much. I've done all those things you're supposed to do between the ages of sixteen and twenty-three. But something happens around that twenty-fourth year. Suddenly, but somehow slowly, the mirage of immortality has ended.
Now I find myself terrified of everything and nothing and all the unknowns in between! It’s as if I have been given a pair of retrospect glasses that show me how careless I use to be. I hear my mother's voice more frequently in my own words of caution to others. I don’t go out at night alone, I carry pepper spray and a revolver, and you couldn’t drag me in the river without some kind of flotation device. I look at others who are still existing in those fleeting, care free years and I think, please for the love of all things, be careful.
8. You might not have your life together at this point.
And that’s O.K. You probably won’t have everything figured out. You will probably still be making minimum wage. You may or may not be done with school. You may or may not be engaged or married. You may or may not have children. You may or may not still live at home. Life doesn’t magically start making sense at any certain age. I’m learning that it’s more important to enjoy your life than to try and understand it. Here’s to the better half of my twenty-somethings. Dirty Thirty I’m coming for you.
