In Kohelet 4:9-12, we read the poignant words:
טוֹבִ֥ים הַשְּׁנַ֖יִם מִן־הָאֶחָ֑ד אֲשֶׁ֧ר יֵשׁ־לָהֶ֛ם שָׂכָ֥ר ט֖וֹב בַּעֲמָלָֽם׃
כִּ֣י אִם־יִפֹּ֔לוּ הָאֶחָ֖ד יָקִ֣ים אֶת־חֲבֵר֑וֹ וְאִ֣יל֗וֹ הָֽאֶחָד֙ שֶׁיִּפּ֔וֹל וְאֵ֥ין שֵׁנִ֖י לַהֲקִימֽוֹ
וְאִֽם־יִתְקְפוֹ֙ הָאֶחָ֔ד הַשְּׁנַ֖יִם יַעַמְד֣וּ נֶגְדּ֑וֹ וְהַחוּט֙ הַֽמְשֻׁלָּ֔שׁ לֹ֥א בִמְהֵרָ֖ה יִנָּתֵֽק׃
Two are better than one, since they have good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift his friend, but woe to the one who falls and has no second one to lift him up. And if a man prevails against the one, the two will stand against him, and a three-stranded cord will not quickly be broken.
Some interpret this passage to connote close friends, comrades or even spouses, however my twin sister and I always regarded it as highly applicable to twins. Twins are born with a built-in womb mate, roommate, best friend, playmate and, arguably, soulmate as well. Dr. Barbara Klein, a twin herself, who has studied twins extensively for decades, asserts, “Twins are born married … sharing psychological and physical closeness, they measure themselves against one another as a way of establishing similarities and differences.” The twin relationship is immensely special and powerful yet also complex and fraught.
As identical twins, my sister and I grew accustomed to a barrage of questions from those intrigued by the phenomenon of twinship: “Why are you this size and she is that size? “Which of you is your parents’ favorite?” “Who scored higher on her SATs?” “If I punch you will your sister feel it?” to which my clever sister would joke, “I don’t know; try punching her and I’ll tell you if I can feel it!”
Perhaps one of the most peculiar and ostensibly inane of these inquiries we encountered was, “Do you ever look in the mirror and not know who you are?” We may closely resemble one another, but how could we not know who we are as individuals? Several years later this question no longer seemed absurd, rather quite astute, and poignant. While participating in a Poland/Israel Pilgrimage Seminar, at the age of 16, I walked out of a hotel bathroom and straight into what I thought was an embrace with my twin sister. Instead, I unexpectedly collided with a full-length mirror. I was mortified, especially in the presence of relatively new peers who were shocked and perplexed.
“Oy Shira, are you OK? You didn’t see the mirror?” Humiliated, I lacked the gumption to admit that I thought it was my sister approaching me. This encounter with the mirror would become emblematic of the struggle with my identity as a twin: Can I exist as a separate entity from her? Who are my true friends? Is this just a friend by association because he or she is friendly with my sister? Every accolade or compliment I received, or accomplishment attained, would feel relative to those of my sister. My sister also struggled to carve out her own identity. We felt as though we either had to be the same individual or dichotomized into two halves of a whole, she a bit “spicier,” and I a bit more “sweet.”
The decision to attend different universities played a pivotal role, enabling us to fill those gaps to become whole beings. For the first time in our lives, our college peers were not acquainted with our “other half” and perceived us as complete individuals. Neither was eclipsed by the other. For the first time, I had my own birthday cake which, while sad in a way, also signified a new and important chapter. In college I recall thinking that someone was mixing me up with my sister to which the person responded by reminding me that they had never met my sister. This proved to be monumental for my development.
Fast forward a few years later when my sister and I became roommates on the Upper West Side of Manhattan—the well-intentioned but relentless questions ensued. Which of you has the doctorate? Don’t you want to be on the news as well? What if a guy one of you is dating decides he likes your sister better? Does it upset you that your sister got married before you and already has children?
People would constantly make comments that would either confuse me with my sister or would compare us and our respective accomplishments, body types, and/or life trajectories. I learned that surviving as a twin necessitated shedding my softer skin and replacing it with a tougher, impenetrable exterior so as not to allow these comments-turned-judgments to pierce my psyche and my heart. I think it may be beneficial to provide our readers with some helpful tips for twins, their parents, their siblings, their partners and their peers.
Some tips for twins and those they encounter:
1) As a twin, strive to foster an individual brand, a unique sense of self.
2) Highlight and celebrate the unique strengths or characteristics of each individual twin.
3) Avoid making any type of comparison between them.
4) As a parent, allow each twin to cultivate his or her own distinct style, passions, interests and friendships.
5) Encourage twins to take separate classes, though they may make many of the same comments in class. Suggest that they cultivate their individuality with exposure to different electives/activities.
6) Recognize that twins do not have to be perfectly the same or the opposite from one another; they can possess similarities and differences.
7) Just because they are a phenomenon does not signify that any question directed to them is warranted and/or appropriate. They are not walking science experiments; rather, they possess vulnerabilities and sensitivities.
8) As the partner or spouse of a twin, recognize that the twin relationship is profound and unique in ways that may be challenging to relate to or to fully comprehend.
9) Try to ask open-ended questions about the nature of the twin relationship rather than make assumptions.
10) Competition between twins is often innate but how they fare in the world can be mitigated with sufficient thought and sensitivity.
Being a twin can be a precious gift in countless ways and the potential of a dynamic duo who so deeply understand one another can be vast and remarkable. We need to embrace the uniqueness of each part of that dyadic bond and further bolster that three-stranded cord to not only be secure but to prove formidable in an otherwise precarious world.
Shira Silton, LCSW, received her BA from Brandeis University, an MSW in clinical social work from Columbia University, an MA in Jewish studies and is currently pursuing a doctorate in social welfare and policy at the Wurzweiler School of Social Work. Silton has been working as a psychotherapist for over 20 years providing individual, couples, family and group counseling in English, Hebrew, and Spanish. Currently she works as a Senior therapist and outreach program director at Yeshiva University’s Counseling Center with undergraduate and graduate students and has a private practice on the UWS. She can be reached at [email protected].
