When my identical twins were born I jokingly called them 'copy' and 'paste.' I worried they'd struggle to find their own identities.

Business Insider

14 hours ago

When Charlie and Thomas were born, I jokingly called them "Copy" and "Paste" in the hospital — my first official dad joke. But behind that joke was a genuine concern about how society would perceive them as identical twins.
As parents, we set out to ensure that our boys would be seen for who he was and not lumped together just because they looked the same.
Color-coding became our first identity strategy
While many parents of identical twins dress them alike for the cuteness factor, we deliberately went the opposite direction. From infancy, Charlie was always dressed in green while Thomas wore blue. This simple color-coding system helped friends and family identify which twin they were interacting with.
Most importantly, we wanted the boys to understand that they were individual people who happened to share DNA. However, our color strategy had one unexpected downside. If we ever dressed them outside their assigned colors, chaos ensued, and even people who knew them would become confused.
I even tried dressing Charlie in brown for a while (Charlie Brown), but that experiment was short-lived when he told me that he didn't like the color.
Our commitment to their individuality extended beyond clothing. We ensured each boy had his own bedroom from age 1, creating personal spaces where they could develop separate interests.
Birthday celebrations were another opportunity to reinforce their separateness. We always sang "Happy Birthday" twice — once for each boy — and made sure each boy joined in singing for his brother. Joint presents were strictly forbidden, even when it would have been more convenient.
Separate classrooms helped them develop different friend groups
When their first year of school approached, we faced our first major decision about their separation.
The school administrators asked if we wanted them in the same classroom, suggesting it might help them settle in more easily. Despite initial hesitation, we requested separate classes, hoping it would help them develop individual friendships and learning experiences.
While it helped their teachers, in the playground, their classmates simply couldn't keep them straight. They became known collectively as "Charlieandthomas" — one word, one entity. And they both learned to respond to either name.
Outside school, their interests initially aligned, particularly in sports, and they did most activities together. I was thrilled when Thomas showed interest in music and began taking ukulele lessons at age eight. Charlie had zero musical inclination, giving Thomas something that was uniquely his.
Their identical appearance became a source of mischief
Despite our efforts to distinguish them, the twins quickly discovered the power of their identical appearance. They executed their first major switch in third grade, trading classes for an entire day. Not a single teacher noticed.
Their prank was only discovered when Charlie, excited at his accomplishment, confided in a friend, who told a teacher. Rather than get angry at their secret stunt, their creativity secretly impressed me.
High school brought natural differentiation
The teenage years finally brought the natural divergence we had hoped for. Thomas gravitated toward math and science courses, while Charlie preferred humanities subjects. During the COVID lockdowns, I grew my hair long and encouraged Thomas to join me. For 18 months, we both sported long locks while Charlie, who hated the idea, kept his short. Looking back at the photos, I think he made the wise choice. This created the most visually distinct period of their lives — people rarely confused them during this time.
Their social circles also began to evolve naturally. Thomas took up basketball, while Charlie joined a gym and developed different fitness interests. This further expanded their worlds beyond their twin bond when they started dating.
During their final year of high school, they couldn't resist one last identity swap. They switched places for their yearbook photos, with Charlie initially planning to make his brother "look stupid forever" by pulling faces. The photographer made him redo the shot, but their switch was still successful — their final yearbook shows their photos reversed, a prank immortalized in print.
The effort to foster individuality paid off
Interestingly, they have never seemed bothered by being confused for each other. They would casually answer to the wrong name without correcting people, sometimes exchanging amused glances that only they understood.
As they started college this year at different schools — their choice — I reflected on our 18-year journey. The color-coding, separate bedrooms, individual birthday celebrations, and encouragement of different interests were all designed to give each boy space to discover who he was as an individual.
The copy-paste twins have become entirely different documents after all — mission accomplished.