On Twins.

Our culture has misappropriated the word “twins.” I call my friends out on it all the time (and they make fun of me for it). Like “We both ordered tacos! Twins!” and “Hey! We’re twinning: matching black pants and striped t-shirts!” Or sometimes “Wow, twins! We both slept through the smoke alarm going off all night.”

Let me set the record straight: in order to be a twin, you must have shared a womb with another human being for approx. 9 months (or be an MLB player in Minnesota). The point is, twins is a special thing that not everyone gets to be. You should be so lucky.

Our mom used to read us this book when we were little about a set of twins who were opposites: one got up early and one slept in. The other liked cereal and the other liked pancakes. One liked playing inside with dolls and the other liked playing outside in the mud (me, duh).

You see, “twins” doesn’t always mean you like the same things, dress the same, or have the same friends. In fact, for @ashleydonahue and I, it was never that way. But what it does mean is companionship. Twins means support, unconditional love, and encouragement. To have a twin is to have an ever-present ally battling alongside you, regardless of distance or age.

Sometimes, we fight for independence — as a twin, your identity is consequently linked and compared to another person’s. So, we have to stand as individuals and prove to the world we aren’t better or worse versions of each other. And other times, we fight for unity. We have to fervently pursue time together. We persevere on behalf of each other and strive to help the other reach her goals. In this season of life full of change and distraction, we often fight just to know each other.

But at the same time, Ashley and I are probably more “twinning” right now than ever before. Both graduating in December, both loving Parks & Rec for the nth time through, and both rocking short, curly hair (Okay, I copied her on the last one, but she copied me on the Birkenstocks. You and me and Mr. Vargish). So here’s to being a little bit the same and a little bit different. Here’s to fruit and fish. Here’s to Leslie Knope and April Ludgate. Here’s to you, to me, and to twins.

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