I started this post to look back on my 27th year, because it was a year benchmarked with drawled thoughts of, "Gawd, I am such a grown up." Yes, those years right after college, venturing into the workforce and then living and teaching in South Korea for a year gave me newfound perceptive and opportunities to showcase my adult-ness. But far enough past the automatic progression of school years, a 27-year-old is faced with the humdrum of day-in-and-day-out and is forced to make real, solo decisions.
In my 27th year, I became legitimately interested in things I had before only really wanted to like. Life stories from those older than me, politics, and saving for retirement got the blood flowing. I went free market and bought health insurance on my own for the first time, made donations to organizations I started to read and whose work I care about, and bought my first car. This is the age where I started to legitimately forget how old I was.
At 27, I began digging my heels into my grumpy cat ways, really trying to figure out my introversion. I cared slightly less about what I thought people thought about me, and I have come through my 27th year feeling more exhausted with my adult responsibilities. It's like things are easier but harder. I am roller blading down the hill but up the hill. Twenty-seven was a pivotal year in overall awareness.
When my college friend died unexpectedly at 27 just before Thanksgiving, it was hard to think about feeling positive about that 27 personal growth bit. I instantly pulled up Facebook and clicked on her profile. She had just uploaded a new profile picture... I had seen it a couple of days before on my New Feed. She had just texted me a few weeks ago. We had just been to the same party two or three months ago.
