Tinx Is Telling A New Story

Tinx is helping me through my latest life crisis over brunch. (I’m in my Saturn return at 28, so the crises are constant.) We’re sitting in a booth at Citizens of Soho, an Australian café in lower Manhattan, and she’s sipping a flat white while I outline my dilemma, brought upon by my dreaded rent increase: Do I stay in New York or move somewhere new? I’m stressed, but she’s reassuring. “You're literally so young,” she says. “I wonder what's going to happen in your life.”

We’ve chatted over Zoom a few times over the years, catching up on her viral dating theories, breakup advice, and first book, The Shift. This is only our first time sitting down together, and Tinx (aka Christina Najjar) quickly lives up to her nickname “TikTok’s big sister,” with her warm, funny, and pleasantly sarcastic vibe. While we’re here to talk about her debut novel, Hotter in the Hamptons, which comes out May 6, I can’t help but ask her to fix my problems just a few minutes into spending time with her. She doesn’t mind. “No, please. I'm literally sick of talking about myself,” she says. Between running twice-weekly “Ask Me Anythings” for her 600,000 Instagram followers, taping her podcast and Sirius XM radio show (both called It’s Me, Tinx), and posting to her TikTok audience of 1.5 million, the 34-year-old influencer has made her living on sharing personal anecdotes.

I'm so lucky that the girls trust me. I would never be flippant with that.

Tinx’s latest venture turns the lens away from herself for a change — well, mostly. Hotter in the Hamptons is a smutty, exploratory beach read that follows the story of an NYC-based influencer who escapes to the glamorous string of beach towns after being canceled twice over. There, she keeps running into the journalist who tanked her reputation and finds herself attracted to her sworn enemy. It’s being adapted into a television series by Erin and Sara Foster, the executive producer duo behind Netflix’s Nobody Wants This, with Tinx as an EP. “I can't think of two better people to shepherd the project,” Tinx says. “We've started to have a few meetings, and it's kind of insane. I'm so excited.”

Tinx has been going viral since 2021, so the influencer landscape is something she knows well. “It's a world that people often discuss, but rarely get right,” she says. “I feel like I could offer at least a realistic look behind the curtain of what it's like, the ups and downs, and the effect it can have on your personality and your relationships.”

Lola, the main character, is a formerly successful and still wealthy content creator in desperate need of some grounding. “She's self-involved,” Tinx says. “Look, a lot of influencers are. If you have people blowing smoke up your a** every day, it can get to your head sometimes. But it shouldn't.”

The novel is not meant to be autobiographical, despite Lola sharing Tinx’s profession and home city. (Tinx moved to New York from LA in 2024 and is “150% happier” as a result.) "She is a different person. She's really not me,” she says. “There are pieces of the worlds that I know, but she's a character on her own." Still, there’s one sticky part of Lola’s evolution that resonates with Tinx: cancellation. When we meet, the latest bout of influencer discourse centers around NYC creators being “boring” — an unforgivable offense, according to the masses. “The conversation that happened was an important one about diversity and who you choose to follow,” Tinx says. “Still, I don't think cancel culture is a good or effective way to create change. I’m against the witch hunt.”

She knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of this ire. In 2022, Tinx was canceled after old, body-shaming tweets of hers resurfaced. At the time, she issued an apology on Instagram, saying the “mean-spirited” tweets came from a “deeply insecure” place. “I'm obviously sensitive to it because I have been canceled, and it didn't change anything,” she says. “If the collective feels like canceling me did something for the body positivity movement, then OK, but I don’t think it changed me other than to make me feel fearful. But if it made people feel better, then, I don't know… is that holding me accountable?” For her character, cancellation is a catalyst for some overdue self-growth, but not much else — certainly not sweeping societal change.

Tinx is more contemplative than defensive about her experience, but thinks community action should be directed toward more worthy causes. “I will never forgive the collective for how upset they get at a random influencer. They have more anger for that than they do for a president who is a convicted felon, who calls for women to be grabbed by the pussy.” Instead of leaving a hate comment, she says, “Call your representative.”

Everyone needs more lesbians in their lives, so why not?

This kind of tough love is her specialty — Tinx’s DMs are constantly flooded with advice requests from young women. The day before, one of her followers wrote in, asking if the guy she was seeing was really into her. His dad just died, and he was being distant. “That question pissed me off,” Tinx says. “I was like, ‘Girl, you need to snap out of it. This person just lost a parent. And you're asking me if I think he wants to date you?’”

Still, for the most part, Tinx feels a close kinship with her followers. “I'm so lucky that the girls trust me. I would never be flippant with that,” she says. It’s a parasocial relationship, yes, but a symbiotic one all the same. They get content; she gets to create.

For part of the book’s creation process, Tinx brought in some outside help. In the novel, Lola explores her sexuality after years of only dating men — a choice that has sparked some conversation online after one TikToker claimed Tinx used a queer ghostwriter for the book and lied about it. (Tinx is straight, and her content is often about decoding the intricacies of heterosexual relationships.) “Lola’s story was the fantasy that dropped into my head. This was her path,” Tinx says. “I think it's great. I mean, I love lesbians. Everyone needs more lesbians in their lives, so why not?” She’s open about hiring a collaborator, Gabrielle Korn, who is queer, to help “nail” those pieces of the storyline.

In real life, Tinx is currently single, and over a classic breakfast (for her) and avocado toast and bacon (for me), we compare Hinge profiles. Recently, she got feedback from dating coach Amy Nobile that her profile was “too sexy” and her prompts were “too negative.” “Here's the thing: I do get a lot of matches. My issue is that I don't really like anybody,” she says. “I hate the first month of dating. I hate not being close to someone. That's why I always try to bang all my friends because I already know them. I feel comfortable with them.”

She’s keeping the details of her love life under wraps these days. “I was seeing someone for a good chunk of last year, but I just decided not to share. I'm glad I didn't,” she says without offering more details. She will give her audience an occasional dating update — but only if it’s someone she’s not planning on seeing again.

In January, she mentioned canceling on a date with a Barstool employee after coming down with the flu. Though it was a legit reason, she said he seemed “pissy” and never followed up. Four days later, comedian and podcast host Francis Ellis confirmed on a company show that he was the guy in question. When I ask if she’s seen the clip, she’s dumbfounded. “No. Where? Where did it get revealed?” she questions before confirming there’s no news there. “I don't think that was the love of my life, but I thought we could have maybe had a fun date.”

She takes a sip of coffee, shrugging. She’s not dwelling on the brush-off. “People use the term ‘ghosting’ in too hardcore a way. It’s not that deep. I don't take it personally at all,” she says. “Until you've met someone, you owe them nothing.”

It’s an interesting point coming from someone whose career is built around making things for people she’s never met. As for her followers, Tinx seems to think she owes them quite a bit. She hopes her new book will inspire them. “A lot of women have so much shame around their desires, and I want to lead by example and say, ‘You can have fantasies, you can have sex, and enjoy it. There's literally nothing wrong with that.’"

As we wrap up brunch, she offers to pay twice, even though the bill is on my company’s tab. She also insists that we exchange numbers before saying goodbye — she wants me to update her on my decision to stay or leave New York. About a month later, I messaged her to let her know I had an update. She responded instantly: “Hi omg.” Next message: “Tell me.”