I’m not talking about the obvious difference, which is 24 months. I’m talking about the small little differences that you can’t see with the naked eye. Like probably, when you’re 25, you would never, just by looking at a 27 year old, know the struggles of their life.
I’m 27 years and 4 months old right now and I sometimes wish that I could go back in time and whisper in my 25 year old ear “drink more alcohol this is the best time of your life hangovers will never be this painless again”. But I can’t because this is reality.
Since turning 27, a few things have changed so much yet so subtly that I am sometimes shaken to the core by my own self. My skin, my body, my capacity for bullshit, my interest in indoor plants and even my sleeping pattern. Being 27 is just all round very different from being 25.
To be honest, this all snuck up on me. Because even though I obviously always knew I would get old, I didn’t think that *I* would ever get old, you know? Like it couldn’t happen to me, surely? And I definitely didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. One day I was in my mid-20’s and now I’m almost 30.
25 vs 27
When I was 25, my skin was as close to flawless as it was ever going to be. It had no lines. Not even around my eyes. And when I was finished smiling, my face would bounce back into it’s pre-smile state. The smile lines wouldn’t hang around for the next 20 minutes like some kind of needy creep. Now, at 27, if I get surprised once during the day my forehead just can’t recover and I look surprised for the next 24 hours.
Back in the good old days (age 25), I could decide to lose some weight and then do it. It was pretty much that easy. If I added exercise into the mix I was basically sculpting a work of art. I would drink green juice for breakfast for 3 days and practically be bikini ready. At 27, I only just realised that I can never again enjoy God’s gifts of food and wine without it affecting my body – negatively.
I’ve been working out like a woman possessed for a month, while still enjoying my daily glass(es) of wine and a relatively decadent diet JUST LIKE I ALWAYS USED TO. But unlike I always used to, I haven’t lost any weight at all. Suddenly, I’m having to figure my body out like I had to during puberty. I don’t know how to drive this thing!
When I was younger my top tips for sleeping included “lie down” and “close your eyes”. These days the long list includes helpful hints like “stay awake until your eyes start to burn and tear up uncontrollably (9:30pm probably) then quickly make your way to your bed and hope for the best” and “insert ear plugs, apply eye mask, ingest Rescue Remedy and practice calming breathing exercises until sleep comes”. Alternatively, make arrangements to go out. This is a sure way to increase your exhaustion levels by a thousand.
These days, if I’m not practically napping on my dinner plate I am lying in bed until 2am worried about not getting enough sleep. And then, no sooner has sleep come, than something wakes me up. At 25, I prided myself on my ability to sleep through anything that wasn’t a direct hit from a meteor. These days, if my neighbour so much as opens their fridge I’m wide awake for two hours.
At 25, the urge to go out was a burning desire. I wanted to be everywhere, most of the time. I wanted to see people and be seen by people. It was so much fun! Getting ready and dressing up. I mean, I was willing to stand out on Harrington Street in a queue, at night, to get into Assembly.
These days, going out requires much planning and a lot of internal pep talks. I need to be emotionaly and mentally prepared. Most often, I find myself resentfully applying makeup as I call an Uber, wishing I could be spending the night at home instead. Once I’m out, I keep checking the time so I can leave at a respectable hour to go home and watch Netflix.
At 25, my hobbies included going out and partying. These days, I’d list DIY and gardening as two of my most pleasurable activities. Most of the money I used to spend going out, goes to home decor, plants and the local Lawn care companies California. Other hobbies include drinking in the daytime instead of at night, cooking for friends and rearranging my house.
Leaving the house
At 25, I’d rush out, no matter the state of the house. “I’ll tidy up later”, “I’ll make the bed later”, “I’ll put every single item of clothing I own back into the closet when I get back”. I could close the door to my house and it would be out of mind, no matter the pieces of pizza trapped between the couch cushions. Now, I have to tidy the entire house, pack the dishwasher, wipe down the surfaces and sweep the floor before I leave if I intend to have a good day.
Possibly the worst part about being not-25. Where hangovers used to be an unavoidable yet manageable part of partying back in BTS (before twenty seven), they are now an unimaginable horror that I actively avoid. Shots? No thanks! There’s no way that thimble of cheap tequila and it’s accompanying dance floor confidence is worth the hell it will rain down upon me tomorrow.
The mild headache and powerful thirst hangovers of my early 20’s have been replaced with body aches, a pounding head, nausea and crippling regret. Not to mention the fact that these symptoms last well into the second day post-party. The two day hangover is real, 25 year olds and it’s worse than you can imagine.
You know what used to make me feel excited? The thought of a night out. Music festivals. Free tickets to see a band I like. You know what excites me now? Buying a new dishwasher. Watching my delicious monster unfurl a beautiful new leaf. Being in bed before 9pm. These are the things of the late-20’s.
If this is 27, I’m interested to see how 30 feels. One thing is for sure though, I’m definitely going to have to relook my diet and skincare regimen.
Are you currently older than 27 and did this all sneak up on you like it snuck up on me?