I always believed the bond between twins was unbreakable—until mine broke clean in half.

Growing up, my twin brother Dylan and I were opposites but inseparable. I was the quiet bookworm; he was the charismatic athlete. Even as life took us in different directions—me to Portland, him staying in Arizona—we stayed close. So when Dylan got engaged, I was thrilled. I texted him right away and asked to be kept in the loop for the engagement party. He promised—but the invite never came.

Then my aunt sent a photo. Dylan and his fiancée had rented out a restaurant for a lavish party with over 80 guests. Everyone was there… except me. I was never invited, and worse, they told everyone I couldn’t make it. When I asked my family, they brushed it off as a “mix-up.” But I knew. It was intentional.

Still, I hoped it would blow over. But at our sister Jamie’s birthday, she snapped: “You moved away. It’s like you’re not family anymore.” Later, I received a wedding invite—with no mention of the wedding party and no +1 for my girlfriend Megan, though Jamie’s casual date got one.

So I didn’t go.

When my mom called in a panic on the wedding day, I said, “I’m in Portland. Where you all seem to prefer me.” She didn’t argue.

That night, Megan held me as I grieved what was lost. Maybe I didn’t change—they just couldn’t accept who I became. It hurts. But I’m done shrinking for people who stopped seeing me.

And now, I choose those who do.