Barbara Klein, Ed.D.

I hope that twins will understand and agree when I declare that twinship as viewed by objective scientists and “onlookers” is very different from how twins see themselves. Twins experience twinship as a roller coaster ride between harmony and despair. For me and my fellow twins, an outsider’s perspective on twinship is mind boggling and just plain wrong.

Unfortunately, after many decades of talking and writing about twins, it is still hard for me to describe such a complicated emotional attachment, which of course has different varieties from twinship to twinship. With this honest disclaimer, I can say: The still waters of twins’ emotional connections run deep.

A most prominent feature of this enmeshed alliance is the readiness to engage in an argument with your twin about a decision that inevitably leads to the question of who is right and who is wrong. And, remarkably, twins hold on to the place-makers of their intuitions and opinions very strongly with entitlement and decisiveness. Each twin takes her own side seriously. The experience of making a decision with your twin can create love and harmony or deep anger or rage. Casually agreeing to the same strategy at the same time is unusual, to say the least.

When my twin and I got an idea in our head, we held on to it. For all of our lives, arguing about a decision could lead to fireworks or war. I would slam the phone in disgust, or she would say critical things about my character which implied that I was too stupid to see her point of view. Every argument was crucial. While some arguments were life-changing, others were about where to buy dessert or shop for a new outfit or which yoga class was most spiritually healing. Obviously, it is difficult to describe this intensity. But trying to measure an unexplained narcissistic personality characteristic is impossible. Objective tests, such as the MMPI, will not explore these characteristics. Drawings, paintings, sculpture, poetry, memoir, fiction, and non-fiction writing capture the experience of love and hate, closeness and fighting, enmeshment and individuality that makes the twin relationship special.

My own experience being “just Barbara” started and stopped, depending on the environment we were placed in. As toddlers, Marge and I were double trouble. We worked together to tear up World Book encyclopedias in our cribs. Our inappropriate behavior was tolerated, because we were not fighting or crying, which allowed the family some peace. We drank red-colored furniture polish from the cabinet in the kitchen. As a result, we took a ride in the ambulance to the hospital with our terrified mother to have our stomachs pumped. We enjoyed getting into mischief. We wanted to be together. Togetherness was a lot of fun and brought a lot of attention.

In childhood, our parents saw us as one. We walked hand in hand to school. We played games like who could make their ice cream cone last longer. We dressed alike and dressed our Madame Alexander dolls alike. (Madame Alexander was a precursor to Barbie.) Fooling around at religious school and on holidays was normal and acceptable. We were treated as one and reacted as a unit. Our twin attention colored our development. However, we were not treated as two peas in a pod. We were treated as opposites. Each of us had our own role in the twinship. I was the responsible and caretaking twin. Margie was the adventurer and the instigator of fun and making double trouble. I was the one who looked at the practical aspects of fun. Gradually our roles lead to the development of individuality and created deep struggles with separation.

Actually seeing that I could stand on my own began in middle school. We were different in that she wanted to belong with the popular crowd, and I was not interested. I liked boyfriends, and she liked the popular girls. While no one talked about our differences, being “just Barbara” was visible to our parents and extended family. We were also allowed to dress alike.

My smart friends and colleagues ask hard questions. Did you and your sister experience life in the same way? Do you agree on the facts of your life, such as developmental milestones? Onlookers ask more obvious and superficial questions: Who was fatter? And who was thinner? Who was smarter? And who was prettier? Who is richer? Who has more children? The more objective the question, the more the answers are agreed upon. Subjective material starts the intensity of the fighting. And I ask myself: Why do onlookers care?

Comparison and competition are natural for twins. These interactions cannot be denied. When measurement from outsiders is handled with psychological mindedness, then it is ostensibly harmless. When onlookers’ questions are for fun or judgment, they are hurtful and erode the closeness that twins share in their compassion for each other.

Why do adult twins care so much about their twin’s decisions or opinions? From my personal experience, what triggers caring about someone who humiliates you (or is not on your side) is a form of self-loathing.

What helps, in the long run, to stop fighting is to follow your own dreams whatever they may be. Your twin will learn to respect you for moving on.