Imagine a life where your whole existence is reduced to a single word: twin. No names, just a noun that defines you. This is the peculiar world my identical twin and I inhabit. We’ve mastered the art of being a twin.>>>CONTINUE READING HERE
We were born just a minute apart in 1992, mirror images of each other. I’m right-handed, she’s left-handed. My hair parts on the left, hers on the right. Even our fingerprints are perfect opposites.
As kids, we were joined at the hip, playing secret games that baffled our friends.
When we started kindergarten, our teachers thought it best to separate us, sensing our mischievous nature. We ended up in different classes but still saw each other during recess.
Our bond grew stronger despite the distance. We were like a package deal — invitations to parties and playdates came with a “both or none” policy.
High school introduced a change of scenery, as well as some teenage romance. As sophomores, we caught the eye of senior guys. Eavesdropping in the stairwell at school, I discovered they harbored some wild twin fantasy
straight out of “American Pie.”
I broke up with my boyfriend after the final homecoming dance, while my sister clung to her relationship a bit longer. She’d ended up making a real connection, and while he’d initially dated her only because she was a twin, it seemed he’d caught genuine feelings too. I, on the other hand, had felt only enough of a spark for a fling.
I always felt as though college was supposed to be our time to shine as individuals. We each applied to the College of William and Mary early decision and never thought we’d both be accepted. But we were, and we both ended up at the school.
It didn’t end there. We continued spending time together and even dated within the same fraternities. People often mistook one of us for the other, leading to some awkward encounters.
After college, my sister jetted off to England for an exchange program for five months, leaving me to navigate life alone for the first time.
It was my first taste of true solitude, and it was a tough transition. Neither friends nor boyfriends could fill the twin-shaped void. Communication with my sister became a challenge; I pined while she was gallivanting in a foreign country. We may have both needed some personal space, but it turned out I didn’t actually want it.
Three years later, we ended up together again, living in a house near Washington, DC. We applied for jobs in the area, and eventually we accepted offers from different companies. We had a blast attending concerts and indulging in fancy cuisine.
But then love struck my sister like a lightning bolt. She met Ben, and their whirlwind romance whisked her off to Seattle. I was happy for her, but at first I couldn’t help feeling as though her boyfriend (now husband) had stolen my partner in crime. Eventually I realized our separation made our bond even stronger.
Being a twin comes with its own set of challenges. We know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, and our fights can go from zero to 100 in seconds. But no matter what, we always find our way back to each other. We share an uncanny resemblance and finish each other’s sentences, baffling onlookers with our seemingly telepathic communication.
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Now I also have my niece, her 1-year-old daughter, a tiny bundle of joy who looks like a mini version of us. As her aunt, I can pretend to be her mom for a moment, but she has an innate ability to sniff out the truth. It’s both hilarious and mind-boggling to witness. My niece may not be my twin, but she feels like an extension of both of us.
As we journey through life, my twin and I may take different paths, but we’ll forever be intertwined. When I’m feeling down or bursting with excitement, my first instinct is to dial her number. I know her better than anyone else. When we reunite, it’s the ultimate twin fashion show: matching leggings, identical sweatshirts, and more. Only our fellow twins truly understand this magical bond — the permanent best friend, the worst enemy, and the lifelong partner in crime.>>>CONTINUE READING HERE
