I thought it was a harrowing sign when I hit 25 and a friend commented that I was a quarter of a century year old. Wow. But now at 27 I have officially hit that vague and mysterious thing known only as the late twenties.
Am I suddenly supposed to feel different? Dress in a certain way that is more becoming my age? Should I stop my childish pursuits of fairy tales and imagination? My answers: Probably not, maybe just a little, and never!
So here’s to the women in their late twenties! To those who may still be trying to figure out what that means, to those who know exactly what it means, but most importantly, to those who have been in their late twenties for so many birthdays they’ve lost count. I’m with you, I like 27. I think I’ll stick to it for a few more years.
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?