I’ve decided 27 is the new, more comfortable, more self aware 17.
It’s 17 without the “does this look good on me?”, “do you think he likes me?”, “is my hair too big?”, “why isn’t she talking to me?”.
27 means being ok with ordering sweet lime soda instead of beer. It means staying home and reading on a Friday night every once in a while and not feeling lame. 27 means blurting out the first thing that comes to your mind and just laughing about it rather than questioning your worth.
It means ordering hot chocolate instead of wine just because you feel like it. 27 means knowing yourself and letting others know the real you, too.
At least that’s what I want it to mean. 
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