Uncommon app essays: Amy Boutselis
“I’m seeing double!” “Wow, there are two of you!” and “Are you a clone?!” are all reactions I have received from people when they see my sister and me together. Growing up as an identical twin, I was constantly grouped with my sister, Christina. Our friends never just said, “Hey Mom, I’m going to go hang out with Amy.” It was always, “I’m going to go hang out with Amy and Christina.” In fact, I was so used to the ring of “Amy and Christina” that being introduced without her seemed unnatural. I felt a little hollow inside when “This is Amy” was not followed by “and her twin sister, Christina.” However, prior to high school, an opportunity to be introduced without my sister would never have arisen. Chances are, no matter where Christina was, I was right by her side—even if it meant getting my shins whacked while she played Skip-It in the driveway. But once we reached high school, we realized that being together all the time might not be so healthy for our relationship or for our individual growth.
As freshmen, we were somehow scheduled together in all but one class. I struggled with this because, although I love spending time with my sister, the atmosphere between us became extremely competitive. Math quizzes morphed into screaming matches, Biology tests into crying bouts, culminating in the house-wide rule that grades could not be shared. Tensions that had always bubbled under the surface were finally coming to a head. For years, I had to tolerate people asking the most insensitive question that anyone could ask a twin: “Who’s the smarter one?” This was usually paired with “Who’s more athletic?” or even just the simple, “Who’s older?” The answer to these questions always seemed to be Christina. Feeling like the runner up, I knew something had to change.
Frustrated with constantly being compared to her, I took the initiative to join different activities, in and out of school. I became a certified lifeguard and worked a summer job at the local township pool; I was elected treasurer of my class, and I revived my school’s defunct cooking club, as the new president. Distinguishing myself from Christina has helped me gain more self-confidence. By choosing separate paths, we are no longer compared to each other.
Overcoming that rough period when life felt like a constant competition truly helped me grow. By diverging from my twin, I was able to explore my passion for cooking and become a class leader at the same time. When summer came, I escaped into a world where I could completely express myself since the people at the pool did not know Christina. Through this process of breaking away, I have come to feel that I am no longer defined by my twin, but rather by my own accomplishments as an individual.
Now that I am my own person, the childish questions have faded into the distance. However, there is one question that I will always enjoy answering: do you like being a twin? The answer to that one is easy. Having a built-in best friend, a confidant, a mind-reader, and a sentence-completer is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. The fact that I love being a twin is what made my separation from her so difficult. Yet, establishing my independence over the past four years has been a major achievement that has allowed me to transition from childhood to adulthood. I look forward to entering college, a place where, for the next four years, I will not be referred to as “Amy and Christina” but as simply “Amy.”