My best friend and I gave our daughters the same name. We hoped it would strengthen their bond.

I met my best friend back in 2005 when I ran a Seattle-based indie music website, and she played in my favorite band. I was a bit starstruck by her effortless cool as she played violin and sang backup harmonies. Eventually, we met and became fast friends.

Saundrah and I entered the world at nearly the same time — born just four days apart. But she's a Cancer to my Leo, the moon to my sun, and the introvert to my extrovert. Yet for all the ways we differ, we're strangely similar. Our tastes in music, art, food, culture , and men are uncannily alike.

A striking example: Saundrah flew to visit me while pregnant. She and her then-husband were keeping their baby's name a secret. But as we watched my daughter toddling around the room, she said, "Our daughter's name starts with an 'A.' Want to try to guess it?"

I immediately guessed "Annika," and she was shocked that I figured it out so quickly. I explained that if I had a second baby girl , I had been planning to name her Annika.

Of course, we'd picked the same name. Of course, when I got pregnant again, it was a girl.

My partner and I tried to find a name we liked as much as Annika, but to no avail. I asked Saundrah if it would be OK for our daughters to share the name. She said yes. By then, Saundrah had moved to Europe, and we were in Seattle, so we figured our kids' time together would be limited. We also thought the shared name would be a nice bond between our two children. Plus, it would be another eerie similarity between us.

My Annika arrived eight days short of her Annika's first birthday .

A shared bond on the other side of the world

It's hard to live 6,000 miles away from one of your best friends. Our girls didn't get to go to the park or take ballet lessons together. But I like to think sharing a name has created a special bond for all of us.

Like their moms, our two Annikas have loads in common and are also so different. Both girls are empathetic, bright, creative souls. They love the same video games and are both singularly obsessed with music.

But Saundrah's daughter is tall, has an incredible sense of direction, and wakes up at 5:30 a.m. every day to get homework done. My daughter is tiny, can't find her way around her own neighborhood, and is a total night owl . Saundrah's daughter is an extrovert, and mine is an introvert. Just like between Saundrah and me, the contrasts and similarities are striking.

But one thing our daughters have in common? Both kids opted to change their names at different points in their young lives .

The bond remains even as their names change

When Saundrah's child was school-aged , she called her Nika. When we talked, it was easy to differentiate our two kids.

But as she entered her tween years, Nika told her mom she wanted to go by her proper name, Annika. Not long after, my child chose to go by Nico. But this wasn't a nickname; the new name came as part of a broader gender journey when she announced she was genderfluid and then nonbinary.

So Annika became Nika and then back to Annika. My Annika became Nico.

These days, Nico uses she/they pronouns. She doesn't talk about gender identity much anymore, but her chosen name has stuck. She is Nico now. The name completely suits her, and I know how important it is to her.

On a recent trip to Europe, the two kids hung out together. I watched as they browsed all the record, makeup, and clothing shops — chatting and laughing as they went. They may no longer share the same name, but their bond remains.