Subheading: Look at me look at me look at me
Is being a writer about craving attention? All my life I’ve yearned after the spotlight. Maybe because I was born there.
I’m a twin. As a kid, this was AWESOME. The adoring public was always ready to, well, adore us.
The questions were always the same, even in the same order.
Around the time we turned eleven, our cuteness soured.
We started answering the questions ourselves, and snidely. This was about the time I think we both developed crippling low self-esteem. (Grace recently asked me, “Why didn’t we say ‘I’m the pretty one’?” Though, really, how silly is it to ask “How do you tell yourselves apart?” I’m the one with my consciousness!)
I know I tried to distance myself from Grace in high school. But she agreed that we were done being referred to as one entity! We definitely didn’t want to go to the same college!
Based on actual photo
That helped, actually. Having a twin was more romantic at a distance. We wrote long letters to each other. Having separated our wardrobe, we could dress more differently, too. (Grace got all the black.)
Away from parental pressure for haircuts, we both grew our hair long in college. I’m not saying we did it for attention, buuuut when my hair passed my knees, I started to get a familiar feeling.
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