I always thought nothing could break the bond between twins. But I was wrong.
I’m Aaron. I’m 28 years old, and I have a twin brother named Dylan. Growing up, we were inseparable. We shared everything—our toys, our birthday cakes, and even secrets. I was the quiet one, the shy kid with glasses who loved books, coding, and puzzles. Dylan was the outgoing one—everyone loved him. He played sports, made friends easily, and always seemed to be the center of attention.
Even though we were complete opposites, we were best friends. We laughed together, fought like brothers do, but always had each other’s backs.
That was… until college.
Dylan stayed in Arizona, close to home. But I left—I moved to Portland to study computer science. I fell in love with the place. The cool rain, the smell of coffee shops on every corner, and those weird little bookstores—I felt like I belonged.
After college, I got an internship, then a great job in tech, and even found someone special—Megan. We’ve been together for over a year and a half now. She’s warm, smart, funny… and she believes in me even when I doubt myself.
Even though I was far away, I never pulled away from my family. I always flew back home for holidays, birthdays, and family events. I never missed anything.
So when Dylan posted on Instagram that he was engaged after three years of dating Hailey, I was thrilled. I texted him right away:
“Congrats, man! So happy for you!”
He messaged back, “Thanks! We’re planning an engagement party in the next six to eight weeks.”
I replied, “Awesome! Just let me know the date ASAP so I can book my flight!”
But… he never did.
Weeks passed. No update.
I kept checking in. Every time I brought it up, Mom or Dad would say things like,
“It’s still being finalized,” or,
“Don’t worry, we’ll let you know.”
But they never did.
So, finally, I texted Dylan again.
“Hey bro, any word on that engagement party date? Need to plan time off and flights.”
No reply.
Now I was getting anxious. Flights get expensive last-minute, and I had to ask for leave at work. So I called Mom again.
“Any updates about the party?”
She hesitated, then said,
“It’s not really a big party. Just a small dinner with close family. No need to fly in, honey.”
That sounded off. Something in my gut told me I wasn’t getting the full story.
Then—one week later—my Aunt Lisa, who I’m super close to, texted me. She was disappointed I hadn’t come.
“Why didn’t you make it to the engagement party?” she asked.
Confused, I replied,
“Wait… what party? You mean the small dinner Dylan had?”
Then she sent me a photo.
My heart sank.
It was a massive party. They had rented out an entire restaurant. At least 80 people were there—friends, family, old neighbors, even distant cousins. Everyone from our childhood was in that picture.
Everyone except me.
I wrote back:
“I wasn’t invited.”
She was stunned. She replied:
“What?! Everyone said you couldn’t make it!”
Then the rumors started to unravel.
Suddenly, I was getting texts from Dylan and my parents.
“It was just a mix-up!”
“We thought you were busy!”
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
But it was a big deal. And I knew it wasn’t a mistake.
They had lied. They left me out on purpose.
I couldn’t understand why. Had I done something wrong? I replayed every memory I had—and then I remembered something strange.
Last time I visited, Hailey had come up behind me and hugged me, thinking I was Dylan. She laughed nervously and said,
“Oh my God, I thought you were Dylan!”
We all laughed it off. But now I wondered—did Dylan not laugh it off?
Did it make him jealous? Suspicious?
I tried to shake it off, but the next few visits only confirmed my fears.
Christmas was tense. No one brought up the party. We just sat around, pretending everything was normal, while it felt like everyone was walking on eggshells.
Easter was worse. No warmth. Just cold small talk.
Then came Jamie’s birthday. She’s our sister, and I thought maybe we could finally talk things out. But after watching me try and fail to talk to Dylan, Jamie exploded.
She looked me dead in the eye and snapped:
“It’s because you moved so far away! It’s like you’re not really family anymore! You make everything feel so weird now!”
That hit me like a knife to the chest. I left the party early. Didn’t even say goodbye.
Months passed. Then I got a Save the Date for the wedding. And later, a formal invitation.
I wasn’t part of the wedding party. Not that I expected it. But Jamie and our younger brother Kyle were.
Then came the final punch.
Jamie—who barely talks to her boyfriend—got a +1.
But I didn’t get one for Megan.
That hurt more than I expected. Megan had met my family multiple times. She brought gifts at Christmas, baked cookies, even helped Jamie with a last-minute wardrobe crisis once.
But she wasn’t invited.
It was clear—I wasn’t truly welcome. I was only being invited so it wouldn’t look bad.
I never RSVPed. But I didn’t say no either.
Wedding weekend came.
No one called before the rehearsal dinner. I clearly wasn’t expected there. But one hour before the ceremony, my phone lit up with calls and texts.
“Are you on your way?”
“Was your flight delayed?”
“Where are you?”
I ignored them.
Then Mom called. I let it ring. Then, finally, I picked up.
Her voice was sharp and shaking:
“Where the hell are you?!”
I took a deep breath.
“I’m in Portland. Where you all seem to prefer me.”
She gasped.
“This is your brother’s wedding! How could you embarrass us like this and ruin the day?!”
I answered calmly.
“If I was so important, why didn’t anyone call me when I didn’t RSVP? Why didn’t anyone check on my flight? Did anyone notice I wasn’t even staying in the guest room?”
She went silent.
“You’re not upset because I’m not there. You’re upset because other people noticed. You’re mad it’s obvious. I was never welcome.”
She tried,
“Aaron—please—”
But I kept going.
“I wasn’t invited to the engagement party. Not included in the wedding party. Jamie said I make things weird. Megan wasn’t even given a seat. I wasn’t at the family table. What was I supposed to do? Sit in the back by the kitchen?”
Still silence.
“I’m not dumb, Mom. It’s obvious I’m not really part of this family anymore. So I stayed here—with the one person who does want me around. Megan. She actually likes having me around.”
I could hear her breathing, but she didn’t say anything.
“Tell everyone I said hi.”
Then I hung up.
The fallout?
Brutal.
Texts came pouring in.
“You’re petty!”
“You ruined the wedding!”
“You made everything about yourself!”
I sat on the couch that night, eyes blank, staring at a paused episode of New Girl. Megan wrapped her arms around me.
I told her everything. From Dylan and I building LEGO castles at 3 a.m., to sharing birthday cakes with our names in frosting. How I once took the blame for a broken window just to protect him. And now? I was invisible.
She looked at me and said something I’ll never forget:
“They cut you out because they don’t know how to handle change. You’re not the one who changed. They just didn’t want to adjust.”
And she was right.
I hadn’t changed—I’d just grown into someone they didn’t recognize anymore. Someone who built his own life. Someone who stopped begging for a seat at their table.
I still miss them. I still look at wedding photos sometimes and see the empty space where I should’ve been.
But I’m also learning to let go.
I’m still Aaron—the one who stayed up helping Jamie with math, who gave Kyle his first Nintendo, who helped Dylan pick out his prom tux.
But I’m also Aaron who loves Portland, who found Megan, who built something real out of nothing.
And that Aaron?
He deserves to be seen.
So now, I’m moving forward. With the people who do see me.