Have you ever met a Tiffani? You know someone that seemed to have it all together and is pretty, smart and successful? I knew several in fact, and one was actually named Tiffani
The first “Tiffani” I met was when I was 5 years-old at a summer camp. She was cute and blonde and wanted to be my friend! She was a whole year older than me, and I looked up to her. I looked forward to seeing her next year at camp.
Being outside of the “incrowd”
The next year at camp I was disappointed. Tiffani had her own posse of friends and she seemed to ignore me. I felt like the invisible brown-haired girl. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t want to be my friends. They all had long hair and were cute. At only 6 years old, I wanted to be like them. I silently sat in back of them during one of the camp movies. They all tossed their hair over the back of their chairs. Tiffani’s was long, blonde and luxurious. I slouched down in my seat so my short, straight brown hair would go over the back of the chair, but not quite the same effect.
I would see Tiffani every year at camp and each year it became more apparent how different I was from her. The girls wanted to be like her, adults seemed to admire her, and later all the boys noticed her. I was the shy, skinny, child who was also sensitive and creative. It was sad that I didn’t think I was enough because I was different from her. Why did I feel I needed to be someone else? Was the world around me telling me I had to fit into that mold?
How did those feelings start and why did I compare?
How did those feelings start? Was it certain adults that I felt compared me to others? I was told by some grown-ups, “Well, she’s older for her age.” The tone I perceived was that my quirky-tomboy self was not enough. I've heard that enough times as a child that I internalized it.
There were other Tiffani’s in my life. My cute cousins, that were always nicely dressed, talented and didn’t play in the dirt or climb trees (at least while I was there). The homecoming queen that you couldn’t hate because she was so nice and a friend to all. The cheerleader from church in 6th grade that always smiled. I was different from them being the moody brown- haired girl, I knew deep inside I fell short.
Myself on the far right with my beautiful sister and two of our cute cousins. I see this photo now with new eyes now. We are 4 girls standing for a photo and have our own versions of a smile. The end.
It's OK to be the unique person you were meant to be.
I have to ask myself as an adult, whose standards were they anyway? As a child I could blame the adults and media, but as an adult myself, I know better. I need to listen to how I talk to myself.
If I were to talk to my 6-year-old self, I’d tell her the very reasons why she is not like “Tiffani” is what makes her special. I’d ask her “Does she have your ability to write? Is she able to see both sides of a situation and be a mediator? Can she climb to the top of a tree like you can? Do pets seem to have peace around her and be drawn to her? I’d tell 6-year-old Jane that it was OK to be the unique person she was meant to be.
Have my Tiffanies gone away now that I’m an adult? Not really. It is easier now to find Tiffanies on social media now more than ever. You know the ones that seem to have perfect families, take perfect vacations, successful careers, and perfect houses. You only are seeing a snippet of their lives. You don’t see them at 4 am getting up with a sick child, the fight they had with their spouse or the bad day they had at work.
I'm guilty too!
I’m guilty at trying to be a “Tiffani” too on social media. I post filtered photos at times. You don’t see me at 5 am, hair in tangles after having a heat flash. You don’t see me driving in socks because I stepped in dog poop. You don’t see me crying in my office because running a business can be difficult sometimes. You don’t see that burnt chicken because I forgot to turn on a timer. That is what’s real and we and need to let others see those parts of ourselves. If we, me included, keep comparing ourselves and hiding our true selves, we will miss being our authentic selves and appreciating our own joy!
Me! Filter vs nonfilter. Guilty!!
Who will be us if we are busy trying to be someone else?
It would be a boring world we were all the same. If we spend so much time trying to be someone else, then who is going to be us? How will we cultivate our own uniqueness that make us who we are? We are the only ones that can figure that out! I think giving gratitude to what’s in front of us is a start.
So be you and not Tiffani, unless that’s your name of course.
While my entire high school class was criticized as "worst" in terms of being friends with one another/inclusive (girls only school, circa late 90s), I don't think there really were any "Tiffanies" or "Brooke" or whatever types. Okay, one girl (let's call her Jen (not her real name, but Jen(nifer) was very common for my era) called me "white washed" because I was not into Cantopop like most of the Asian (almost all from Hong Kong or had Hong Kong roots...not really unusual at a school like my alma mater) girls, but no one else REALLY thought I was too weird, despite my love for country music and musical theatre! Or the fact that I had gawdawful skin (only one other girl had a worse acne issue than I did). I practically LIVED on OXY pads and 10-0-6 astringent! Looking back, those things probably did MORE harm to my face than it was suppose to help. My skin issues extended beyond high school and into my early 20s :(. But maybe my neurodivergent self just didn't notice other than what Jen said.
My “Tiffani’s” were the “Morgans”. Three of them to be precise. I ran into one of them as an adult and immediately felt as small and insecure as I did when I was 14. I’ve adopted a mantra whenever those feelings rear their ugly head: Her success has nothing to do with my success. Her looks have nothing to do with my looks… It can apply to anything and helps me be proud of myself in my moments of teen-like shame. Thank you for writing this Jane! 💛