My face reflected in the contours of her nose,
Her cheek, her chin, the gently sloping lip.
Our hair is like the snowy blonde
Of Sweden and of Norway too, No-one knows
The difference between the two, their languages
So similar, and land alike they’re practically a twin.
I’ll turn back to you when I feel unsure
Of who I am, of what I am, of what it is that I could be.
You’ll show me how to plant my feet so similar
To those that keep you rooted to your home.
I’m always blown away when somebody really looks like a celebrity and I wonder what it must be like to get confused with someone famous. It must be such a strange sensation to walk down the street and know that people are looking and know why they are looking.
When I was younger, there was a guy in my school who used to swear blindly that I was the double of Lindsay Davenport, the tennis player. And as I’ve got older, I think I’ve started to look more and more like Amy Farrah Fowler. But I would hardly imagine people could stop me in the street mistaking me for one of them.
I do think that I have one of those faces that is comparable to lots of people. I regularly having people ask me how my sister is or if my mum is better or other random questions because they think I’m someone else. I am convinced that I have a doppelganger in my town as it happens that often.
When I moved to my current flat, the guy who I hired to move my stuff literally stopped in his tracks when he saw me and asked what TV programme he knew me from. I had to disappoint him and confirm that I was not famous.
I do believe that everyone has their double wandering around somewhere on the planet. I haven’t met mine but I don’t think she lives far away so there is a chance that I could meet her really soon.