Puberty is awkward as Hell. Every kid knows it; and hates it. One day you’ll wake up 8 inches taller with hair everywhere and red bumps all over your face and you’re supposed to just be like “Ah yes, puberty, great. This is exactly what I wanted to deal with for the next uncertain amount of years, right as I’m going through the most emotionally unstable point in my small life, splendid”. The worst part is how adults have this burning desire to discuss it with you; everyone has to get “The Talk”. Anything involving bodily functions, feelings, sex or basically all the things you never want to hear your parents say fall into “The Talk” category. It’s uncomfortable, both kid and parent feel weird after, and it’s almost always followed by a thousand more questions that will never be asked out of sheer embarrassment.
Unfortunately for me, the talk came from my Dad. Multiple times. He’s a high school health teacher so is profession is basic teenage training 101. My sister and I have sat through dozens upon dozens of gross (but weirdly informative) body talks with our father. The brunt of them were during our middle school years with some sprinklings here and there in high school. Dad seemed fine and comfortable talking about all of it; until we actually started dating. He switched from teacher mode to Dad mode very quickly, especially when he didn’t like a boy that we were interested in.
My first relationship lasted 8 days. It was a whirlwind romance, we parted over irreconcilable differences: He was Korean and I had referred to him as Asian. Apparently it was traumatic.
The next relationship was little longer, about two and a half years. I began dating Andrew when I was a sophomore in high school and he was a senior. We had been together for just a few months when my sister announced that she was also dating someone; Andrews best friend, Alex.
We were essentially dating the same person without even realizing it. Let me lay out the similarities: Both A’s, best friends, same clothes (including sunglasses), both shorter than Devin and I, both firefighters at the same station, both going into criminal justice, both mothers had cancer, both played soccer, both dated for 2 1/2 years, and both were terrible boyfriends.
The worst similarity by far was the firefighting obsession. Both boys were volunteers (which is admirable don’t get me wrong) but they treated every call as if someone had set fire to an orphanage full of kittens and the elderly. The station always came first. Multiple times we found ourselves left in the middle of a date with no way home all because a call went out (once for a broken garage door. A hole in a door is more important than a two year anniversary obviously). Devin and I would stare after our idiot counterparts as they ran down the street in full sprint to literally go sit in a truck. They were first year status and couldn’t even step foot onto the site.
Most dates became double dates and if not that then we usually ended up copying one another for ideas. If I replayed every anniversary or important event in both relationships they would look almost identical. Our boyfriends even copied present ideas, thinking we wouldn’t notice because we’re not close. We shared a womb. Obviously we’re close. Obviously we noticed. We all even fought over the same issues. Eventually the foursome split up into the original gruesome twosomes.
Devin and I argued tirelessly about how “different” our boyfriends were when in reality they had more twin-like qualities than we did. After our breakups, we somehow both ended up in long distance relationships with guys from the same town three hours away. The only upside to that was having someone to travel with on long car rides.
While we’re away at school, we’ve been keeping most relationships private. Who knows what weird connection our next boyfriends could have.If anyone is ever skeptical about twin sisters taste in men, let me help clarify: it’s the same (and not always good). But it’s fine, knowing us we’ll probably end up as sister wives and ignore all those red flags too.