Teen twins: growing up together while finding your own identity

Being a teen twin is strange. It’s the first line I always come back to, because it’s true in the simplest way. I’ve never known anything else, but I still catch myself wondering what life would feel like without someone constantly beside me, sharing the same corridors, the same friends, the same milestones.

I’ve spent nearly 19 years being a twin, and I still find it hard to explain what it’s like. Some days it feels completely normal. Other days it feels like the biggest, loudest part of who I am, even when I don’t want it to be.

Mostly, I’m grateful. I like knowing my twin brother, Ben, is there at school and everywhere else. If something goes wrong, I’ve got someone to go to. If I’m stuck, I’ve got someone who’ll give me advice, even when he doesn’t fully get it. There’s comfort in that. There’s also something steady about having a person who’s been with you for every version of your life so far.

But there’s a downside too, and it’s not one people always think about. I don’t really get a day that’s just mine. Birthdays, GCSE results day, the achievements I’ve had so far and the ones still ahead of me, they’re shared. That can feel sad. At the same time, it’s also amazing, because it means I’ve got someone to share the joy and the disappointment with, step by step.

The best bits and the hard bits

The bond itself is hard to describe unless you’ve lived it. Twin bonds are like no other – we can be fighting for a whole day, but the next hour we can go back to normal chatting as if it’s nothing. That’s exactly it. The switch can be instant. One minute we’re arguing, the next we’re laughing like it never happened.

I know that whatever happens he will always be there, pestering me and bugging me because that’s just what he’s there for and, honestly, that’s Ben all over. He’s constant. He’s annoying. He’s also the person who can make me laugh when I don’t want to.There is never a boring day with Ben, as every day is filled with arguments and laughing and meaningless conversations that you can have while sharing a biscuit he stole from the kitchen. It’s chaotic, but it’s ours.

That closeness can also feel like pressure. Sometimes I hate being a twin, because it can feel like I have to share everything. Friends. Experiences. Space. Even my thoughts, sometimes, because we’re so used to being involved with each other all the time. In those moments, it’s easy to focus on what I’m missing, instead of what I’ve got.

Then I remind myself: I would never have it any other way. Because even on the hardest days, I know I’m not facing things alone.

Finding my own name

One thing I notice a lot is comparison. It’s everywhere. Test scores. Teacher comments. Little moments that get turned into who did better, who’s ahead, who’s “the smart one” in this subject. I can’t write an essay or finish a question from a class we share without him wanting to look at mine. It’s not always meant badly. It’s just part of how being twins works when you’re side by side so often.

What makes it stranger is that we were brought up exactly the same. We’ve had the same opportunities and the same upbringing, but we’re so different. Ben loves racing tracks and cars and loud exhausts. I love animals, dancing, reading, and being with my friends. We don’t fit into one neat matching set, even if people expect us to.

That’s why I struggle with the way others label me. I hate being defined as a twin. Around school, I’m known as “Ben’s twin”. People I meet ask if we’re related, and they always seem to ask if we’re identical. It can be ridiculous, but it can also be exhausting. I feel like the only personality trait I’m allowed to have is being a twin.

I want to be called Amy. Not “the twin”, not “Ben’s twin”. Just Amy. Sometimes I’m not even asked my name. I’m just called a twin, like that’s enough. I am my own person, even if Ben and I share traits and a life that overlaps in a hundred ways. At the same time, I can’t pretend being a twin isn’t part of me. It is. It always will be.

We do not have mind reading abilities with each other, but we do have a special bond that nobody can break. That bond doesn’t erase who I am. It sits alongside it. And on the days when being a teen twin feels strange, that’s what I hold on to.