My little sister and I look the same. We are not the same; our personalities, lives, and experiences being distinctively different, even opposite. But, in spite even of our contrary stylistic choices, our striking resemblance captures another’s eye and stops the mind from processing the numerous ways in which we are, even optically, different. Our own mother at times confuses one with the other, which our youngest brother, who is my sister’s twin but looks nothing like her, finds amusing. Very rarely, if ever at all, have these two been understood as twins by strangers; on the other hand, and even more amusingly, when my sister and I were younger and our five-year age gap less obvious, she was taken for my twin. Sometimes, I humorously accuse her of being my doppelgänger.