Confessions of the evil twin

Everything is running smoothly in my relationship with my twin sister—the ride rarely going through humps and potholes. It is all rainbows and butterflies, with the occasional bees that we shoo away pretty quickly. I really do feel like we’ve become closer now more than ever, and our sisterhood is just overflowing with love and licks on the cheek (we’re weird like that). I really enjoy all our moments together, and we're in a season where thankfully, we've both come to realize that our sisterhood is much more important than shallow squabbles and emotionally-blown-out-of-proportion fights. This means we don't argue about very petty things chores anymore (FINA-FREAKING-LLY) because the two of us would keep a score board of who took out the trash last, or whose turn it was to feed the rabbits. It's pretty awesome because it tells we've both matured. The only times we snap at each other is when it’s PMS season, or what we fittingly renamed as the "pre-monster syndrome." Even during these times, one is quick to rebuke the other in love, and the other is quick to apologize and deal with her own emotions and internal issues. We never let a day pass without resolving squabbles or disagreements.

This hasn’t always been the case, though. Our sisterhood has gone through insane seasons of quarreling where there is just a back and forth of cutting and painful words, to the point where one twin threatens to leave the house and the other clutches on to her dear pride just not to initiate the resolve.

If you have a close relationship with the both of us, you’d observe that I had always been the twin predisposed to... well, recklessness. Back in college, when my twin sister was abducted from me by her boyfriend busy spending time with her first-ever boyfriend, I had to figure out what my identity was apart from being a twin. We've always been the inseparable duo—the wonder twins, #wombmates, BFFs since birth—and during her season of nurturing a romantic relationship, I was left alone for some major identity-hunting as an individual. I was well on my way in becoming different from Danah, who was the funny-miss-congeniality-friends-with-everyone half of the Gutierrez twins. She was the kwela one, I was the pakawala. To give you a brief background: growing up, I was the shy, nerdy kid, and Danah has always been the bibo one. When I reached high school, I suddenly had an aching need to change myself out of my desperation to be liked by (trying-hard-to-be-cool) boys, hence losing so much weight from anorexia-bulimia. I didn't want to be the naive, goody-two shoes anymore who spent her breaks in the library reading books on arts and crafts, so the initial phase of my metamorphosis was to change my body. After all, the young celebrities I've grown to idolize were all skinny. They were also evolving into this can't-be-tamed version of their former selves, so I took my cues from them and mimicked the kind of young women they were becoming: hot-mess party girls who dated around.

It was freshman year in college when I’d successfully tricked myself into considering chugging large mugs of submarines (beer + tequila) and smoking cigarettes as my initiation to be part of the cool kids club. It was then when I also toed the line of doing drugs. I told myself I knew my limit, so it had always been the “organic” and “safe” kind: weed, shrooms, and Mogs or Valiums mixed with alcohol. My marijuana abuse began after I got date raped at 17, and that was when I made Mary Jane my ultimate BFF. She helped me forget that nightmare and calmed me down when I'd recall moments from it. She helped me relax and deal with anxiety. After knowing the Gospel and surrendering my life to Jesus a year later, our blissful friendship soon became muddled with my desire of becoming a productive human being with better coping skills. That was when MJ and I became some sort of frienemies. I would miss her when she’s gone, but I’d hate her when we’re together.

I was pretty stable in my pursuit of sobriety until 2012 came. There were slips of getting high and getting shit-faced drunk, but I was quick to catch myself before things got out of hand. Around mid-year, I celebrated my first anniversary of employment. I was very much determined to impress my colleagues after getting moved to a different team full of awesome workmates. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for my twin. We were working for the same company, but she was in a different department. While I was busy with work and enjoying the company of my cool bosses, my twin was being bullied and emotionally tormented by hers. It slowly dampened her spirit, and soon enough, depression plagued her bubbly and happy self. I wasn’t used to seeing my twin sister this way, and after all the efforts and attempts to make her “snap out of it”, I just got exhausted. I did not fully understand her condition and instead of trying harder, I made everything about me. Why couldn’t she be the same old twin that was fun to be around? Where’s the Danah I liked spending time with? I can’t believe how self-absorbed I was during this dark season of her life. It’s sick.

To escape the difficult reality about my twin, I fell back in the dark hole of drugs and partying. But this time, the party I did was spelled with double E. 

I was once again pushed back in the hole I was desperately trying to get out of. I did it to myself.

This time, I got in deeper, and I dragged my defenseless twin with me.

When my sister finally had it in her to disassemble the walls of isolation from depression, I was the most ecstatic in our family. I was so happy Danah is back, and the dynamic duo can get started on their adventures again. At this point, I was living for drugs and weekend parties/getaways, and I was overjoyed to bring my partner-in-crime with me. We’re back, baby, and we’re painting the town red!

I can’t remember exactly how I told Danah about my extacy use, but I do know that I slowly eased the topic in our conversations by presenting it as something beneficial, something that could help her regain herself back in the aftermath of her emotional slump. I was successful in letting her try her first fly high capsule when we were in Boracay with a bunch of high school friends, but at the height of her depression, it barely had an effect on her. (Some of my friends and I were all peaking and going crazy at Epic while she was just sitting in a corner begging me to go back to the hotel.) The second time around, I was hoping things would be different since the haze of depression was slowly dissipating, and I was totally right. We’d go on night outs fueled with drugs and alcohol, having the time of our lives. I was finally showing my twin sister how I’d been living my life all those months she stayed home from her emotionally crippled state (neglecting her health and her hygiene—the lowest I’d seen her). After what seemed like forever, I could see she was starting to have fun and be her outgoing self again, although she did have her reservations about the drug. She wasn't all out for it like I was, so I didn’t want her to find out the gravity of my addiction—that I had been dropping regularly, at least 3 times a week. Knowing Danah, she’d definitely get alarmed if she saw the entire picture, so I was careful and made sure she only knew bits and pieces of the truth.

It’s hard to admit, but it's honest to say that for most of the time my sister got high, I was the one responsible for it.

I remember forcing her to snort this blue little pill I’ve managed to crush up in the bathroom of the guesthouse we were staying in for Masskara festival. Her hesitation made her fear obvious, but I assured her it will be fine. She did one line. I pressured her to take another, and she obeyed.

I remember giving her some extacy when I asked her to come to the bathroom with me while we were in URBN. She was caught off guard, but her tipsiness made her game for whatever shit I gave her.

I remember us tripping on shrooms when in the middle of it she broke out with rashes. She was getting a little paranoid but my mind was too altered to think of anything to do about it, so I kept telling her it was all in her head. 

I grieve for it now, but back then I just had a messed up definition of happiness and I just wanted to share it with her. I wasn’t trying to wreck Danah’s life, I was trying to make mine better.

My heart breaks when my mind goes back to all those times I was the devil in my twin sister’s life. I cringe inside. I can’t help but blame myself for all her regrets from an aftermath of drug use, because all the drugs were from me.

Between the two of us, it’s pretty clear that I was the evil twin. 

A year and a half after we moved in our new place marks our 9th month of living on a high fat and low carb lifestyle. I remember Danah telling me randomly one time while having breakfast how she’s so grateful to me for influencing her to eat right, because our new way of eating reversed her PCOS. She no longer needed to take shitty hormones (with crazy side effects!) and her period started coming regularly again. When I gave her our daily cocktail of vitamins (fish oil, vitamin E, biotin, vitamin C, magnesium, and daily multivitamins), she chuckled at how times have changed and teased me that the pills I used to hand her were drugs, now it’s all vitamins. She joked that for once, I finally influenced her towards something positive. We found ourselves both laughing about it after a couple of banters.

She’s right. Eating and living healthy are probably the greatest things I could’ve ever forced her to embrace, and it’s impacting her life drastically for the better.

When I paused to reflect on what was said at the dining table that morning, I couldn’t help but get emotional. I felt relieved. I was grateful. Ultimately I know it’s God’s way of turning the sick and twisted influence I had in my sister’s life around. From pulling her to an unhealthy, destructive lifestyle with me, I am now slowly pulling the two of us towards wellness, one meal at a time, every day.

Maybe unknowingly that’s the reason why I am so strict with ridding ourselves of carbage (processed carb is garbage!) and sugars. Maybe that’s what pushes me to get us right back on track after a slip of having a few pieces of chocolates for dessert. Maybe that’s why I always give my twin the death stare when she’s about to put carbs in her mouth; why I always remind her to take her vitamins every single day, to the point of hand-feeding it to her when she won't even look away from her laptop screen because she's engrossed with writing. Maybe that’s why I’ve been policing her eating habits, because I want her to stay committed to eating a high fat and low carb diet for her own good. I don’t want PCOS making its way back to her body again just because she couldn’t help herself from eating pizza and desserts.

I’m the older twin sister, and as much as 7 minutes do not really hold much grounds for more authority over Danah, I do know it in my heart that I’m meant to look after her. From being financially reckless because of my drug use, it surprises me that God is slowly changing even that aspect of myself to mold me to be a better steward of His blessings. I’m now the one calling out our spending habits when we keep doing some unnecessary shopping. I am in charge of our household—I make sure our bills are paid on time, the cupboards and fridge are full of healthy food (and ICE, Danah always needs ice for her drinks), and my sister is well-fed on time, every day. (I don’t like hearing that she’s starving, although there are seasons when she’s just always starving. Makes me boil 8 eggs at a time just to make sure I have something to feed her whenever she waits for me to prepare a full meal for her. LOL.)

It’s what pushes me to keep researching on what kinds of foods to avoid. It’s what makes me run to two markets for groceries, Healthy Options and Pioneer Center (or Rustan's), because what we need for our lifestyle isn’t readily available in one. It’s what fuels me to read every single label of the food items I purchase. It’s what drives me to spend hour after hour on reddit and YouTube, searching for the next best dish that can light up my sister's eyes and smack her lips in delight. 

My strong desire for the two of us to pursue our overall wellness is what makes me put my foot down on this new rule I just implemented in our home: WiFi off by 10:30pm and cellphones and laptops off before we go to sleep. Our wellness coach highly encourages it, and I’ve just read up on studies that prove radiation and WiFi have harmful effects to the body and brain too!

More than anything, I am grateful to God for the grace to change the narrative of our sisterhood. From recklessness, He is directing me to wellness, and in effect I get to pull my sister towards that path with me. Ultimately, it is only God who has changed my heart and my behavior. It is my intimacy with God that has opened my eyes to see how much of an influence I have towards my twin sister, and I am very thankful that I am now used to better her life to one that is full of vitality, energy, and positivity. I never would have imagined that it could all come from my time spent in the kitchen. God can really use the most mundane things to change the whole course of a story, and He’s using His mighty power to create a bright future in the coming chapters of our lives. It’s been said that food can either heal the body or make it sick, and perhaps as I help my sister’s body heal through my cooking, I get to heal both our souls too.