Last week I noticed a couple of things, but the major thing that’s come out of my last few days is that I am 27 years old. Now I realize that is pretty basic and may not mean too much upon first glance, but let me just explain why its relevant to me:
- I am 27…and I have two degrees under my belt and am working on a third. The degrees themselves don’t mean anything other than my affinity for academic sodomy, but the fact that I have gotten to explore so much and work with so many people who have taught me amazingly insightful things is not lost on me. I’m 27 and in intellectual company with people who run universities and make major decision on educational policy. That to me is pretty astounding. What puzzles me daily is how they are impressed by any of the things I’ve done, which seems so trite sometimes in comparison. But then I remember I’m only 27. I’m just now figuring out what life is about and somehow in the midst of my dark years I managed to accomplish and achieve. How that happened is attributed solely to the grace of all that surrounds me.
- I am 27 and I know who I am not, but more importantly I know who I am. Flaws and all, I’m familiar with myself like I’ve never been before. Sometimes its not a pretty picture, sometimes I think I could have done things better, but I have to remember to move on from that moment, that incident. I don’t feel the need to “BE” anything with any particular group of people. Even though I’m knee-deep in this world of academia; I’ve made a concentrated effort to be myself always. That includes the way I speak, talk, dress, etc. Initially I would question appropriateness, but then I figure there are exceptions, but I will not have a business self and a social self, I simply have a Self who always wants to yield to class and acceptance. Be that as it may, my cohort members will simply have to either accept my occasional 4-letter words and love affair with cheap wine. Know that I always have my stuff together, and never regret the night before. I couldn’t say that before 27.
- I am 27 and I just DGAF. I stole that from my former Assistant Director of my internship site. She told me, “Something happened on my 27th birthday. I woke up and I just didn’t give a flip, and every year after that I cared less and less.” I woke up on my 27th birthday feeling like 30. Oh man how I used to care…I cared so much and would criticize myself worse than ANYONE in my life would. About everything from grades, to conduct, to involvement, to weight, I would berate myself. Now I think I have exhausted myself, and my negative volcano is dormant now all I’m left with is beautiful black sand beaches. No one can say anything to me that I have not already told myself, and so I think I am likely prepared for anything. More than that, though, I have become more daring. Sometimes I look in the mirror and am too fussy with things, my hair or my outfit and I just make myself go out anyway with a smile, and by the time I get home again I feel great. I don’t always feel 30 on the scale of GAFness, sometimes I’m 21, but more often than not, I feel 27.
- I am 27 and whether or not my thighs always touch does not contribute to how spectacular I am. Longest lesson to learn and I don’t even know that I’m fully buying into it but I am trying to. What you see is only one part of me, and in large part it is the consequence of who I was yesterday, not who I am today. It will take a while to see the progress I have made on the inside. I am okay with that and I am okay with the thought that maybe my jeans will always be double digits. I have too many other things going for me to be down about one. I have to appreciate the small accomplishments I make in regards to my health and stay encouraged. I am 27 and I have
controlsurrendered control to higher powers of love, I have begun to drink that goodness and grow the seeds of acceptance in my womb. I am 27 and a mother of my own self.
- I am 27 and I am not in the business of making friends. I do not, and have never really separated my friend from my family. I have always taken friends completely into my heart and given them my everything, which is why when I lose one it hurts like hell. The friends I have now, and the ones I have yet to make will be ones that I continue to do that with. I realize the unfortunate/fortunate truth that not everyone is meant to stay in your life, but I do pray that those that leave do so on good terms. At least, I pray that I can let them go without resisting and wish them all the best. I do not need to make a friend. Either you are, or you are not. I am 27 and I know the difference.
- I am 27 and that means a lot of different things. I am not a mother, a wife, a lover, but I am a daughter, a sister, and a friend. With all this looking around (instead of looking within) one would think I am behind or somehow lacking in my 27ness. But no. I am just a different kind of 27. I am the kind who doesn’t need to call home if I’m going to be late. I am the kind who only needs to cook for one. I am the one who has no safety latches on doors or plugs in my sockets. I can sleep in the middle of my bed. I can walk barefoot through my living room and not step on a toy. I love that my 27 is different from yours. I love that you have a husband, and I love that I do not. Different never hurt anybody.