Growing Up Matching

My sister and I were not born twins. Yet for the majority of our young lives, our mother dressed us as such to the most adorable effect possible. Whenever one of us got a new outfit, the other one got a new outfit. The same new outfit. When we went to church, we always wore the same fancy dress: at thanksgiving, same dress; at christmas parties, same dress. Basically any event, same dress. We were always told how adorable we looked, and this positive reinforcement was enough for our mother to continue with this pattern as long as she shopped for us. The two of us got so used to looking exactly like the other that the sense of being the other sister’s half never really went away.

Of course most of our similarities ended with being dressed in matching outfits. She is happy, perky, a constant optimist, unconscious of fashion trends, and rarely in the mood to look as beautiful as possible. I’m not. As a child, I was a dark cloud, moody, practical, blithely aware of fashion trends, and desperate to look as good as possible. She was also a stick, and I was a fat child. We balanced each other out in almost all ways, and grew so dependent on the other, that we never really grow out of.

Today we don’t match. We don’t wear the same clothing, have the same ambitions, or even live under any roofs together. Ye we are each other’s perfect match. We finish the other’s sentence, depend on each other for life advice, and constantly feel a hole in our life when the other is not there. We’ve grown up, we’ve changed, but we’re still matching.

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