EXTENSION OF XFFNY

rereading: wow, I really know how to go on and on. I have decided for each entry, I will merely identify a core topic each time and see where the wind takes me. Also, I do want to mention that this was written on a whim a 4am during a brief visit home. No turning back now.

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Hi!

Introductions are always a bit forced and awkward, but also necessary. My name is Tiffany and on most of my social platforms, I go by xffny (ex-fuh-nee). Why?

From my first memory up until start of college, I had never met another Tiffany. Going to college in the largest private university, it was evident that many of us would share the same name. It was only then that I discovered “Tiffany” was a very stereotypical name for an asian girl, especially from the west coast. Back then, I enjoyed posting content on Tik Tok and as you may already guessed, my username was @xffny. This came from a combination of the desire to possess an unique but minimalistic username and including my last name (begins with X).

While I intentionally block out memories from the content I allowed onto the internet, it was satisfying to work the algorithm and see the efforts pay off. Before I stopped posting, I gained about 55K followers. While it wasn’t a crazy amount, it was enough for most people I encountered throughout college to know me as xffny. I didn’t mind it too much, as I preferred that over being the “blonde Tiffany”, the “tall Tiffany”, or the “Tiffany who’s friends with ___”. So, that pretty much sums up where xffny orginated from.

Just one year ago, I would have never envisioned myself posting any form of writing online – even if my anticipated viewership is 0. Growing up, I never (and still don’t) feel completely fluent in any language. Outside of my supposed accent when speaking, I always felt that my vocabulary was limited. I used to blame it on the fact that I only spoke Chinese at home and should have been put in ESOL, but the truth is I did not grow up reading much. My biological father used to take me to the local library where I would check out a good amount of books, read about 1/2 of them before they were due for return. After he had left my life, 6-year-old me simply stopped reading as much and honestly speaking, I am only putting these thoughts together as I am writing it out.

After primary school, I hardly read any assigned books. I think the only book I read and truly connected with was The Call of the Wild by Jake London. With bits of assistance from SparkNotes and slight skimming, I somehow managed to get through middle and high school with grades that would satisfy my Asian mother. Even in college, I used to proudly admit how I never touched any textbooks to get through my courses. In the moment, I did not see much issue with this given that my performance was not impacted. I now view this in hindsight and only find it idiotic that I took shortcuts and wasted opportunities handed to me to expand my knowledge and grow intellectually.

Through self-psychoanalysis, I determined this was a part of my lack of confidence to share my writing. As I am oversharing, might as well mention another mental blockage against writing. When a certain person from my past used to read through any of my writing, I would always feel so anxious, knowing that a spew of overly aggressive critique may follow. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, but it made me insecure and reluctant to share my writing with anyone. From the same person, a strong reaction may also be seen when I did not recognize or understand supposedly “common” words that were never integrated into my vocabulary. Whilst it was never delivered with intents of harm, my tendencies to overthink paired with my wavering confidence led to a growing hesitation to writing.

I will have to say though that this is quite ironic.

I studied international relations, taking many courses that required heavy research and deep analytical writing. On average, I wrote 20-30 pages combined per semester…and following similar patterns of my reading, they were all completed last minute by pulling an all-nighter. It still feels miraculous that lowest grade I ever received for any writing-related assignment was a 90 (a cognitive neuropscience paper from my psychology minor elective, an intentional choice I question everyday).

Just now, my automatic instinct was to write that I did not enjoy writing those papers, but truth is, I think I did. Yes, in the moment, the stress of knowing the paper was due in 8 hours and I was staring at a blank page was excruciating, but it was also what brought together my upmost creativity, determination and ability to wire in.

I struggle with expanding my terminology especially in day-to-day usage. I knew that in the eyes of my professors (or TAs), my writing wouldn’t stand out in any way particular, but that my ideas were articulate despite the often complex themes. Mayhaps one day, I’ll do a deep dive and analyze some of my pieces (I can’t even imagine what I wrote in my 17 page urban econ paper that I worked on from 11pm-5am that was due in the intersecting 12am).

Random fact: I’ve only asked for an extension once in my life during my final semester, to which I was harshly rejected..

In this current moment, I am questioning why I am even admitting to these sides of me that I would never want to be perceived from. Mayhaps, this will nice to look back on to see how my 23 year old self thinks.

So, xffny, why did you decide to start writing?

Over the past few months, journaling has become my biggest and most impactful outlet to process a significant change in my life. In so many ways, it has helped me express and process my emotions. Outside of this, I find myself frequently jotting down random thoughts and ideas that I want to come back to. As my notes app accumulates (avg 2-3 new notes/day), a majority of these thoughts do not end up being explored and become another drop in the pool of my 1-2 line notes. With this page, I intend to treat it as a tool and form of refuge for my internal monologue.

2025 has been the most volatile stage in my life yet. So much has happened – some good, some bad. But at the end of the day, all these experiences are what makes up life and defines each individual. While there are many things that I look back on and if given the opportunity, would go back and alter, I am so thankful to be given this life and witness and experience everything that I do.

I’vee recently grown into a mindset where I don’t regret any actions I take as long as they were acted upon with intention. They were all choices I made in the moment even if I didn’t believe were the best. Sometimes, there are things that one just needs to experience for themselves to truly understand in order to not repeat the ordeal. And that’s alright, it’s what life is all about!

If there weren’t any downs in your life, what would make the good feel good?

There are so many things that I want to do with my life and so many trajectories that are still so uncertain. I’m almost impatient to discover who I am becoming.

As I feel myself tornadoing through this now lost path, I believe this is a good place to wrap up my first post. Next, mayhaps I will write a properly introduction, my likes and dislikes, and my short/long term goals and bucketlist.

songs listened to while writing:

• Rouge – Bennett Coast
• Hold On – Weston Estate
• Magnolia – Keshi
• you won’t be there for me – slchld
• Daisies – Weston Estate
• Walking Back to You – Sunaini
• we’re not alike – Tate McRae
• Tides – blacktop
• Gypsy – Fleetwood Mac

ciaociao for now,

xffny