Seeing Double? Think Again: A Twin’s Testament to Individuality

SEEING DOUBLE? THINK AGAIN.

BY KELSEY MCHUGH

PHOTOGRAPHER: SARAH REESE

When asked to name a fun fact, it has always been a no-brainer: I have a twin sister, and no, we are not identical. I used to be bothered by the slew of invasive questions I’d then have to answer, but I’ve since learned to embrace it. While my sister and I now live relatively separate lives, we often talk about how our genetic bond has impacted our personal narratives, even to this day.

My sister is fiercely honest and possesses a boldness that I have encountered in very few people, whereas I balance out the dynamic with pragmatism and a somewhat level-headed sense of reality. While our differences should have been powerful enough to let us carve out our own pathways, we were often defined as a collective. This approach to unity was intended to strengthen our bond, however, it created challenging dynamics in our relationship and amplified some of the harshest challenges of adolescence.

The comparisons began in elementary school, where we were frequently referred to as “The Twins.” Even at a young age, I began to hate this term.

As we transitioned to adolescence, our innocent priorities were soon replaced by the desire to be beautiful (even with rainbow braces) and be chased by the boys in our classes. I remember that my first true heartbreak was when my 8th-grade crush confessed to my sister that he liked her. He decided to slow dance with her at one of our school dances, and to this day, I still can’t listen to All of Me by John Legend. While my fragile heart would eventually mend, this somewhat painful event triggered my awareness that comparisons would be made about things that were out of our control, and this was a cycle that would seemingly never end.

High school was supposed to be an opportunity for renewal, but instead, it had a deeply personal impact on our relationship that I don’t often share. My passion for learning fueled unfair academic comparisons for my sister, and on the flip side, I was perceived as less confident and socially energizing. Hearing this gossip was always an emotionally-taxing experience. This time also taught me a lot about navigating complex relationships, as some people could not detach our identities. This led to a few of my most meaningful relationships crumbling due to differences with my sister, which made me deeply question what many of my friendships were predicated on. It made me feel like I’d been a social obligation all along.

In a time when you’re supposed to be “finding yourself,” it was difficult as the labels that defined us individually also defined the other. I wanted us to be celebrated for our differences while being viewed in the same light - which never happened. I feared that our failures would mutually define us, and I became overly critical of some of my sister’s decisions, mostly because I wanted to protect our relationship.

I came to Queen’s all alone, no longer having a reflection trailing beside me. My sister would be attending school back home, and it was the first time we would be separated in our lifetime. I remember feeling overwhelmed as my family pulled off the highway and eventually crying in the parking lot of an A&W after seeing my residence room for the first time - two words: double loft. The changes were too sudden, and I felt as if I could not catch my breath. For someone who had always praised herself for being able to adapt to anything, I wondered if I’d always had a false sense of confidence because of the constant anchor in my life: my twin.

While the initial transition was disastrous, I slowly found my footing. Orientation week connected me with some of my closest friends, and I found myself grounding my new relationships in things I hadn’t before. I had suddenly been given a blank slate, and I felt compelled to share my random thoughts, sense of humor, and deepest secrets all within weeks of knowing them. I tended to be a private person, and having this heightened sense of vulnerability allowed me to experience more clarity. For once in my life, I was simply Kelsey, and with time, I felt more liberated and willing to be spontaneous without the fear of judgement.

It has taken us each several years of introspection to truly grapple with our senses of individuality. We often took on the burden of each other’s hardships but have learnt to help each other heal instead of internalizing our guilt. Our relationship is now steadfast, and I am inspired by her truth, encouragement, and creativity. She is my closest confidante, and I’m grateful that we will eternally circle in each other’s orbits.