The Twin Stands Alone

Abigail and Robin Pogrebin's childhood as identical twins reads like a symmetrical storybook: Robin dressed in red, Abby in blue. They slept near each other in cribs, then bunk beds, shared birthday cakes and ate the same number of Oreos after school. The Pogrebins attended Yale together, graduated, and moved into an apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. And when people inquire, "What was it like growing up a twin?" Abby gives her standard answer: "It was great." And it was, she says, but that three-word answer betrays a complicated, nuanced relationship. "I never explain ... that Robin has spent the past five years pulling away from me. Or that I want more of her," Abby writes in her new book, One and the Same: My Life as an Identical Twin and What I’ve Learned About Everyone’s Struggle to Be Singular (Doubleday, 2009). Being a twin, Pogrebin explains to me over the phone, "looks idyllic in many ways because so many people idealize it. While I do think a lot of that is true, it comes along with more intensity and complexity than I ever found explored in anything that had been written."

So Pogrebin set out to explore it herself, hoping to understand her relationship with Robin by speaking with other twins and the experts who study them. She spent two years meeting with more than 40 sets, from NFL football players Tiki and Ronde Barber to Holocaust survivors to conceptual artists. "I found that unpacking twinship means exposing the tension between being one and the same," Pogrebin writes near the end of her book. "I've tried to explore what it takes to ultimately forge individuality, but I also set out to examine sameness, because it's integral to every twinship and how its perceived."

As both a twin myself and a journalist who has covered multiples in the past, Pogrebin's words seemed spot on, an honest explanation of how multiples feel about the relationship into which they were born. It's a balancing act between same and different that is both enviable and deplorable. Twins have the rare comfort of going through life with a constant partner. As one tells Pogrebin, "We're all looking for that relationship that twins were born with. Everybody wants to be loved that much." But at the same time there's a competing desire to be recognized for one's own accomplishments and merits rather than your duplicity. Being a twin means vacillating between these two poles, attempting to land at a comfortable place. In that sense, Pogrebin's book is a larger exploration of identity: how we make ourselves unique in a world of millions and establish our singularity when so many of the people we know do the same job as us or come from the same background.

On the morning her book hit the shelves, we talked about the tension of growing up fused, the most interesting twins she met, and how the book has impacted her relationship with Robin.

Up until now, there's really not much in the way of twin memoirs. What got you interested in writing a book about your experience growing up an identical twin?
I had never found anything on the shelf that accurately reflected what it's like to grow up a twin. I think it's an easy relationship to oversimplify. It's become the stand-in metaphor for what we all search for, someone who understands you without saying a word, someone who is your perfect match and other half. I think a lot of that is true. What was missing were the adult twin voices to say, "This is what it feels like, this is why it's emboldening, this is why you feel strengthened, but here are all these reasons why it can muddle your own sense of self."

In talking to so many twins, what did you find out about what it means to be a twin, what that relationship means?
So much of what I discovered is hard to put into words. If you start saying, "We're so close, we talk about everything," peoples' eyes roll over. A lot of twins' relationships are irrational and ineffable. There's a power to it, an obligation, a sense of being truly responsible. Without even really realizing it, Robin is one of the forces that keeps me afloat every day. Or there's Greg Hoffman [who lost his identical twin brother on September 11]. So many people have said to him, "Get over it, you're an adult, you have a family, you have other siblings, it's time to move on." But that will never happen for him because this was his identical twin brother.