College Essay

  At first glance our eyes are identical, just drops of brown surrounded by white. Focus for longer then a second and you realize her eyes are different. They are like the cross section of a tree stump, brown circles with golden rings of age beautifully defined and organized. My eyes are light brown with flecks of gold sporadically tossed in like cinnamon on toasted bread. When we were younger I did not comprehend what it meant to be a twin. It was another adjective like cute or shy. As time when on the definition of the word twin had more meaning.
      Every winter when we were in elementary school Taryn and I would explore the woods in our backyard. The trees were inspiring to me we would play for hours in their shadows as they shivered in the wind. The trees showed so much courage the way they could withstand the bitter cold, arms twisted and crippled with age still raised determined to do their best to survive. I always thought Taryn felt the same way about the trees, like my thoughts were shared with hers but as the years went on she grew away from the trees. She was more concentrated on fashion and societal pressures. I always remained close to the trees in a way. The musky smell of old faded yellow lined paper and the sound of graphite swishing  against paper was natural and exhilarating like being in the woods. Even the swirls of my handwriting looked like the wrinkles in tree bark. Writing was my way to escape, it was my magical world found within the forest of my thoughts.  It was the one thing that I did differently then Taryn. It made me my own person.
  Strangers would always ask us what is it like to be a twin. Unanimously Taryn and I would answer "We don't know anything else". Deep down inside I knew the real answer. Twins have tangled spirits, our thoughts, feelings, emotions are intertwined. We both love cities and forests and sunshine. We both know how to tell if someone you meet will be a good friend and how to extenuate your best qualities physically and intellectually. We both can not spell and we both rely too much on our fingers to count. But emotionally she says I am like my father. "You are stubborn, dramatic and sensitive just like dad" she has been saying since I was in the sixth grade. It may be true that I am like my father but I think it is a good thing. Like my father I know what I want but I am still unafraid to try new things. If I find out that I am interested in something I follow that passion to its full learning everything I can about that subject. I even drive like my father, enjoying the control and thought involved with driving a standard transmission.  I think that I have gained attributes from people other then just my father. I have my mother's problem solving skills, my great-grandma's love for chocolate, my grandma's need for adventure and exploration, and both of my grandfather's love for a corny joke. But then end of the day when  I look back on who I am I realize that I am a twin there is no better way to describe me. I am not the oldest, the youngest or the middle child; I am a twin who is largely similar to her sister but still has her own identity.