For most women and girls alike, being a jealous bitch is a natural trait that we have even if we are the most confident street strutter that we know. We have all dated guys or liked a guy and had some skank who was maybe ever so slightly a few clicks above yourself on the hotness level come around and of course your guy thinks she is “awesome” or “a really nice girl.”
While he’s trying to become friends with her you are thinking “I want to claw her eyes out” and that jealousy comes seeping through. The most awkward part of this common scenario is when that skank reminds you so much of yourself from a few years back in your glory days of college or high school — whatever time period you thought your shit don’t stink. You see your best qualities in her; like her looks, heritage, major in college and bad habits.
Then you start to see things about your old self that you have lost track of like looking close to fabulous even in sweats and having that intoxicating personality and energy that attracts major attention (well I thought I had these things at some point, anyway). She becomes close with your boyfriend and friends and you think “Great … for once I have competition and it’s against my fucking twin.” As much as you try to become friends with this girl (because of course everyone thinks she is “great”), you just cannot seem to find her interesting or worthy of friendship.
If I didn’t know myself I wouldn’t want to become friends with me so why the hell do I want to become friends with Gia # 2? Imagine the scenario: Every time she is around, you think about how this was your personality and goofy jokes from a few years back. So when (and why?) did they disappear and leap into someone else’s body?
It’s a strange realization that this twin of sorts has appeared in many personalities that I’ve encountered from high school, college and post-college years. As the weeks and months pass and I grow farther away from collegiate life, I feel as though stress becomes my greatest shitty friend and the constant focus on myself and my social life lessens. These people I run into give me a morbidly depressing look back into how I used to be and in a way, they show me how far I have come or just rather, how dull I have become.
Usually we cannot stand people we do not understand or accept socially, so what does it mean when you get a migraine every single time you run into that one person that reminds you so much of yourself? It leaves me with two seemingly basic options. To #1, step up my game and maintain the cocky personality I’ve had for 22 years and ignore the reality that no, you are not 18 and fabulous anymore or #2, put a hit out on your faux twin.
I’ll let you know which one works out.
~G. Ippolito
Philadelphia, PA
