Birds of a Feather

“I didn’t know he was your twin.” 

Those were always the first words to come out of my friends’ mouths when I told them that I had a twin brother. I would tease them, because to me, the similarities were as clear as day. We had the same hair thickness, face shape, and eye color. Our eyes curved into small crescents whenever we smiled, and we both often had a deep red blush that blemished our high cheekbones. But I knew deep down that that was where the similarities ended. My friends would always assume he was a cousin or someone who just happened to share some of my features. They would never genuinely believe that he was my twin. 

From a very young age, my twin brother and I have been different in all aspects other than the physical ones. We cherished, hated, and dreamt of different things. I love to socialize with people, often making friends with everyone that I came in contact with. On the other hand, my brother stuck close to the three or four people that he connected with, friendships that’ll last him a lifetime. I hate being unorganized and unprepared, scared for the failing grade that I might receive on the next test due to negligence, but my brother couldn’t be any more different. He leaves work to be finished the day it’s due. He doesn’t study enough, and the things that he’s learn previously, he doesn’t bother to revisit. If it were not for the hair on our heads or the smile on our lips, we would be completely and utterly opposites of one another. 

But, as I grow older, I realize that it’s the differences that make the connections between us so much stronger. There are times when I wish I could force him to study harder, so that our mother wouldn’t worry so much, times when I wish I could just rewrite him to my liking. I know that he also feels this way about me, like the way I get cranky when I haven’t finished everything on my to-do list, to the way that I ignore him whenever he calls my name out one too many times.

In these times, I realize that through our differences, we are forced to endure the hardships that naturally come our way. We cannot give up on each other just because the other isn’t someone they aren’t.

One of the biggest hurdles we’re continually faced with is comparison. My mother, like many others, would often compare the two of us. She’d ask my brother, “Why can you not focus on school just like your sister?” This question would soon be asked on a daily occurrence, and as time went on, I could see my brother’s patience wearing thin. But I could not stand up for him because I knew, in the very back of my mind, I wanted even more than my mother to ask him this same question.

Then, one day, my brother snapped. I’d see the stress on my mother’s face as they argued, my brother lashing out with anger. In those moments, I wanted to hide. But I didn’t. I know more than anyone, deep down, that just because we were twins, we were not the same people. He was his own person, and the image of someone else cannot be forced upon him. When my mother had calmed down, she’d mull over why my brother was the way he was, and I would answer her. 

“He doesn’t need to be like me. He’s his own person after all.” 

My mother didn’t bother my brother after this, and I think that my brother also started to understand that even though he may be pressured to be like me, he doesn’t have to. Even though we may be completely different, through our own unique strengths and flaws, we’re able to find a way to persevere as twins and maybe help others understand that we are not copy and paste.