“A Chinese philosophical concept that all things in the universe exist as inseparable and contradictory opposites. Or pairs of equal opposites that attract and complement each other”.
Newborns: Connie (left) and Hattie
When I knew I was expecting twins, 26 years ago, aside from hoping they would be born healthy, I wondered what they would be like. Boys or girls? One of each? Big? Small? Timid? Strong? As it turned out, we didn’t have to wait long for them to show their true colours.
Each time I went for a scan, one of the babies would not keep still. The sonographer laughed as she tried to get an accurate view of the little body as it wriggled around. The other baby seemed calm and relaxed, lying almost motionless most of the time apart from the odd flex or stretch of a limb. As my due date drew closer, and I went for my final scan, the sonographer said of the active one,
“This baby is making sure it’s going to be first out, it’s worked its way into pole position!”
Like most new mothers, I had devoured the baby books to learn all the important stuff I needed to know and tried to memorise what was expected of me. I also read several books specifically about twins and learned that:
“It is important for twins to be allowed to have their own individuality and as such, they should not be dressed the same. Nor should they be given similar names”.
This made a lot of sense to me. But then the advice got much more specific
“Don’t give them names that are very different in length. For example, if they are two boys, don’t call one Sam and the other Christopher: Sam will learn to write his name much more quickly, resulting in Christopher always feeling left behind”
Crikey, this is a minefield I thought. So, once we knew they were both girls, we carefully chose two names that, although they differed slightly in length when they were spelled out in full, Constance and Harriet, when shortened, which is how we always intended them to be used, were the same length: Connie and Hattie. We hoped they would be friends and that their twinship meant they would have a special bond that would transcend any differences or difficulties they experienced in life.
A twosome from the start: Hattie (left) and Connie
Ironically, the baby in pole position to be the firstborn, was thwarted in her aim, for I had to have an emergency caesarean and her sister was lifted out first. Their Dad and I still laugh about this, for there is no doubt that the determined baby was Connie: she was completely single-minded even then and still is. Her sister, Hattie, has always been more easy-going.
As soon as they could walk and talk, Connie took charge, officiously bossing Hattie around and making her do her bidding. She would instigate games where she was the mum and Hattie was the baby: Hattie was “told off” for not eating her food or doing as she was bid. She was made to lay down on her back with her legs in the air while Connie “changed her nappy”. Hattie seemed perfectly accepting of the situation and quite happy to go along with it. It was as if she couldn’t be bothered to object. She had accepted that Connie was in charge, and she was content to play second fiddle.
Then one day Hattie rebelled. The girls were about three years old. They were sitting on the stairs next to one another playing a game they had invented called “Carla and Sarah”, where they would pretend to be grown-ups, each clacking about in a pair of my high heeled shoes with Connie jangling a set of car keys as they talked about going out for a drive. A row broke out – not uncommon, for they were always arguing, but what happened next caught us completely by surprise.
Hattie, clearly sick and tired of acquiescing, very slowly and deliberately took hold of Connie’s arm and sank her teeth into it - hard! Connie screamed loudly enough to wake the dead, I think as much through shock as pain, and burst into tears. It seemed she was both outraged and astonished that Hattie would have the temerity to rebel in such a way against the status quo. Connie realised, to her chagrin, that things would never be the same again: that she could only push Hattie so far before her sister would fight her corner.
First day at school: Connie (left) and Hattie
For a period, as they got to eight and nine years old, their sibling rivalry became more pronounced. They argued and each fought for their place: who would get to sit in the front seat of the car
“No, I sat in the back last time!”
Who would be first out of the bath
“You got to stay in longer yeterday!”
Who was allowed to choose the first cake
“You always get to choose. I never do!”
And on and on until it drove us to distraction. But, by and large, in most situations, their very different temperaments usually came to the fore.
Connie was strong-willed and obstinate and always wanted to have her own way. She would fight me about what she was going to wear, what she wouldn’t eat and how she wanted to do things. Equally determined she wasn’t going to get her own way, I fought back and ours was always an explosive relationship. Her father’s calm approach got better results. Hattie was more compliant and accepting that her Dad and I were in charge so she and I had a more amiable relationship.
The fact that they were so different made me reconsider my opinion about nature/nurture: these two children were born with very definite and very different personalities. Inevitably, we, as parents, responded to their particular dispositions, which must have influenced the outcome to some degree, but it became clear that despite entering the world within two minutes of one another and growing up at exactly the same time with the same family experiences, these were two very different little people. Added to that, they were complete opposites.
These days, they have each found their place in the world and how they fit together.
As they have grown into adults, their personalities have settled into a pattern and their distinctly different temperaments show themselves time and again to be complementary. They are, it seems, the perfect foil for one another. And as such, they make up the perfect whole.
Connie is confident and self-assured (at least on the surface), Hattie is a ditherer: always unsure of what decision to make. Connie thrives on drama, Hattie never likes to be the centre of attention. Connie ruffles feathers, Hattie is a peace-maker. Connie is loud and Hattie is quiet. Connie works in broad brushstrokes. Hattie is a details person. Connie likes company. Hattie is very happy on her own.
I find it interesting that they are so different, but it seems that somehow, subconsciously, they worked out that this was how it would work best for them as a twosome, for they are the best of friends. They speak to one another almost every day, they share a friendship group, they often socialise together. They help and support one another, using their different skills. If either encounters a problem, they turn to the other for advice. Connie helps Hattie be more decisive. Hattie calms Connie down. They fight. But they also fight one another’s corner.
So instinctive are they around one another that their speedy babble is often hard for anyone else to understand. They burst into peals of laughter at something only they find funny. They can bicker like an old married couple. But they are always there for one another. And Connie still knows that she can only push Hattie so far, before she has a rebellion on her hands. With mock indignation in her voice, she shows friends the scar from the bite Hattie gave her all those years ago – a lasting reminder of how their equilibrium was reached.
All grown up: Hattie (left) and Connie
I have a great relationship with both of them now and cherish the time we spend together. As an older mother – I was 41 when they were born, I feel hugely privileged I am still alive and well and able to enjoy their company. I delight in watching them develop as two of the people who will carry forward the next generation, and feel safe in the knowledge that when I am no longer here, they will still love and support one another.
While writing this piece I discovered that March is the month of yin-yang, and that Pisces, with its symbol of two fish swimming in opposite directions, is the star sign. These yin and yang fish are thought to represent the Pisces' constant pull between reality and fantasy. Is it pure coincidence then that my twin daughters are Pisceans, born in the month of March? I like to think not and feel that, rather, this is just more proof they were always destined to be this way.
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You’re reading Home Truths, a newsletter from me, Susy Smith. I am many things: a parent of grown-up kids, a dog owner, a gardener and a compulsive mover of vases (I worked for years as a stylist). I am also a writer/editor and former Editor-in-Chief of British Country Living Magazine.
I write here on an eclectic mix of subjects about life, and a few of the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
dear Susie, I'm so glad to see your beautiful daughters as they are now. I have followed you on Country Living since their birth and always enjoyed seeing their pictures. A beautiful family, thank you for posting the photos.
Hello Suzie! I loved reading about your twin daughters and especially as they were born in March! I am also a Pisces and they ARE the best, most creative people!🤗 Seriously though, it made me think about my own upbringing, my sister (not a twin), it’s so interesting! Enjoy their company and many more adventures with them!🌸