The word’s out. Erin and I are no longer twins. We just couldn’t live the lie anymore. Not for moral reasons so much, but because we were just really bad at it.
Another girl here shares a birthday with me, and she excitedly told Erin that they shared the same birthday. Erin astoundedly said, “Really? When’s that?”
Or when Erin showed the gap year kids her “fake ID”. They were astounded by how real-looking it was.
Or later, when Erin was telling people she was already 21, as I was telling people I was 20.
Since the act was already falling apart, we had planned to tell people after my (our) 21st birthday, but it was Erin’s decision to end it earlier. We were using my age and my birthday, so it was more of a hassle for her to keep up the act.
Granted, we didn’t think the act would last long, anyway. Both my roommates already knew, and if anyone paid attention to the details, they probably would have figured it out.
At first, people didn’t believe that we weren’t twins. They thought it was just Erin pulling tricks, which is a totally justified accusation, I assure you. Things got really interesting, however, when we told people that one of us was two years older, and just let them guess who.
It was mayhem. Some people seemed to stretch the facts so that we would be twins. People assumed Erin was lying about being over 21, positive that she was actually the same age as me. People checked Facebook, and found out our birthdays were different days. Then they thought we had just changed our Facebook pages to confuse them. And then there were other people who just thought we were cousins.
It was interesting how strongly people would hold on to their beliefs, even when significant evidence was presented otherwise. People were so unwilling to believe that we had lied to them. It was a little touching to see how people would rather bend the facts than accept that they’d been lied to. This could be a psychology dissertation in the making.
In some ways, though, I’m glad we introduced ourselves as twins. Being a twin felt different than being a little sister. This was new to me. I’ve always felt like a smaller version of Erin, especially since we look so alike. I didn’t stop seeing myself in this way until she had gone away to college. Ever since then, it seemed like my autonomy could only exist as long as we were separated. I imagine Erin must have felt the same thing as the big sister – held to look more responsible, and annoyed at constantly having a tagalong. But by introducing ourselves as the same age, I was no longer a mini Erin, and it seems that we can both exist as sovereign individuals, albeit ones who get up to a lot of shenanigans together. Whether we’re putting solo cups in our hair (see below), juggling lemons unsuccessfully, or squished together in the same clothing, I think that the individualism that came with twinning has brought us closer together than before.