I was born a twin. It's not simply a phrase, but a truth understood most deeply by those who live it. Twinship is not defined by proximity, nor is it dependent on constant presence. It exists beyond physical distance, and beyond circumstance. It is part of identity itself – something formed at the very beginning.
Separation doesn't end the bond between twins; it reshapes it. What was once expressed through shared moments becomes something quieter, something internal. The connection doesn't disappear simply because it's no longer visible. Death may physically separate twins, then it becomes less about being side by side and more about living with the permanent knowledge of the other.
Throughout our lives, we were known as “the twins,” “twinnies,” or “which one are you?” Occasionally, we were called by our actual names. We were continually referenced as a pair. Even today, I am still identified by my twin – something I struggle with, considering that side by side we were completely independent, and completely different, even more so because of our accomplishments.
It wasn’t that people couldn’t tell us apart. They simply couldn’t be bothered to. Our aunt always greeted us with 'which one are you?'
Keeping us grouped together meant they didn’t have to make the effort to get to know us as individuals. The result was that over the decades, we not only shared an identity, but also a reputation. If one of us was seen negatively, the other was seen the same. Even today, though my twin is no longer physically present, alive, and in my life, people still see us as one identity, one character – even though I have grown and achieved in my own way. And that isn't right or fair. Being part of a twin ship meant learning quickly how the world saw us. As the second twin, I learned early to observe more than I spoke. It was how I coped with being perceived as half of a whole.
Giving the benefit of the doubt, there are those who aren’t twins may struggle to understand the bond, the twin concept – or may even disagree – because most relationships are shaped and sustained by presence. When that presence fades, people assume the relationship fades with it. But twin ship doesn’t follow those rules. It began at birth, and it remains a constant. And it isn't confusion that keeps us bound together in other people’s eyes – it's convenience. It's easier not to separate than to see us as individuals.
Distance, particularly around death can change how twin ship is felt, but it cannot undo what has always been true, there. A twin is not someone you stop being just because your twin is no longer physically around you. A twin is someone who remains part of you, in silence, and in absence. Separation doesn't end you being a twin. Its form changes, while its existence remains unchanged.