On Being a Twin: Or Please Stop Pointing Out To Us That We Are, In Fact, Two Different People

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Lookin’ cool in our favorite JC Penny’s sweats

As many of you know, I have a twin, and she’s pretty damn cool. Growing up as a twin was the best thing ever.  While I won’t pretend I wasn’t annoyed when Annie would steal my favorite lion shirt or would get on my case about not cleaning up my half of the room, it was pretty amazing having someone who you shared everything with so completely–someone who knew you better than anyone in the world. Annie and I are fraternal (not identical) so while we tried to switch places and pretend to be each other once or twice, nobody bought it. We were forced to accept that there weren’t going to be any Mary Kate and Ashley-style shenanigans in store for us, and after getting over that initial tragedy, we became comfortable with the fact that we were just totally different people, inside and out. Continue reading

Breathe In, Breathe Out

When I was growing up, my relationship to my asthma entirely shaped my relationship to my body. My body was something that had to be constantly monitored for any sign of symptoms. It had to be regulated and controlled. My body wasn’t a part of me, it was a setting–it was a dangerous situation that I had been placed in for unknown reasons; a house in the path of a hurricane. Continue reading