Mahj Styled Turns One: What I Built When I Wasn’t Looking

One year ago today, on my 44th birthday, I filed the paperwork with the North Carolina Secretary of State that officially made Mahj Styled a business. But Mahj Styled actually started before that. And it started with tiles.

As much as I loved playing mahjong, I fell head over heels into the beautiful, colorful, sometimes completely over-the-top world of modern mahjong tiles. And because I clearly can’t put a game on a table and call it a day, I started thinking about everything that could go around them.

The table linens. The napkins. The glassware. The flowers. The snacks. The little details that could turn four racks and a set of tiles into an entire tablescape.

I really just liked creating themed mahjong tables and wanted to share the things I loved on Instagram. That was it. Beautiful tiles. Beautiful tables. Mahjong, but styled… hence the name.

I never intended to teach classes. I had never even heard of a mahjong league. There was no vision of leasing a private space. No tournaments, no Card Collective, no Troop Mahjong, no calendar full of events. I just wanted to make pretty mahjong tables and share them with people, and I did… for about five minutes.

Then I started going places.

I liked mahjong (and mahjong tiles) so much that I wanted to find new people to play with and places to play with them, but something was missing. I wanted something more from the experience around it.

I wanted to walk into a mahjong event and feel like someone had thought about what it would feel like to be there. I wanted to be welcomed. I wanted beautiful equipment on the tables. I wanted food and drinks and little details. I wanted an atmosphere. I wanted to feel like I was attending something rather than simply arriving somewhere that happened to have four chairs and a mahjong set.

And eventually I had the thought that has gotten me in trouble continually since I was born.

I’ll do it myself.

So I started creating the kinds of mahjong experiences I wanted to attend myself, where mahjong was part of a bigger occasion. There might be a theme, a beautiful table, snacks, wine, and some little unexpected details. The game brought everybody together, but the experience around it mattered, too. In fact, it mattered more than the competition.

And the more I did that, the more I started to see what else was missing. People wanted to learn to play, so I started to teach. Once people learned the basics, they wanted to learn more. And once they were ready to play… well, then what?

Where do people play? Who do they play with? How do they get enough practice to actually feel comfortable? Most importantly, how could we create something that was fun and friendly for players at every level?

Then Mahj Styled started becoming an answer to those questions.

Classes led to guided play and opportunities to practice. Players who met through Mahj Styled started finding each other. Social open play became the way to make everyone feel welcome. People wanted to play regularly. And the more our community grew, the clearer it became that what we were building needed a place of its own.

So in May, I unlocked the door to a tiny space in downtown Wake Forest for the first time.

Welcome to The Loft.

If you had told me when I filed that LLC paperwork that seven months later I would have a tiny mahjong clubhouse in downtown Wake Forest, I would have laughed.

And yet, here we are.

The Loft is only about 250 square feet. It holds two mahjong tables. It isn't huge or fancy, and it certainly isn't a typical mahjong parlour. But I had an idea, an amazing sounding board in Emilie Rabke from Let’s Mahj RVA (I am forever grateful to you, Emilie!), and just enough guts to sign the lease. And that tiny space has become my second home.

It's where we learn. It's where we play. It's where we keep score and forget which Charleston pass we’re on and sing along to the songs we know. It's where we celebrate birthdays and collect tiny birds and share our latest projects and laugh far more loudly than the neighbors would like.

What started as two tables, a wing, and a prayer made me realize that somewhere along the way, the business I was building had become a community we were building together.

Mahj Styled became a community.

Over the past year, I've watched beginners fall in love with the game. I’ve gotten to know and support other women in small businesses, mahjong or otherwise. I’ve watched students and players become friends, including some who have become dear friends of my own. I’ve seen genuine relationships form between people who never would have met otherwise.

Every time, it brings me such joy, because yes, I love this game. But I love what we’ve become so much more.

I learned some things this year.

Not everything worked. Very few things were easy. Every moment was worth it.

I launched things that didn't work. I've had ideas that sounded brilliant in my head and failed miserably in reality. I've changed things, canceled things, and worked longer and harder than I ever had before.

I've learned how to say no, how to pivot before it’s too late, and that success doesn't mean making everyone happy. That one has been hard to swallow.

I found out the hard way that strong community needs boundaries. It needs expectations. And sometimes protecting the experience you believe in means accepting that it won't be the right experience for everyone.

The biggest lesson of this first year has been that Mahj Styled doesn't need to be everything to everybody. It needs to be really good at being Mahj Styled.

So now what?

Year One was about growing outward. Year Two is about growing deeper roots. Here is the vision:

• Give people more reasons to come back. More classes, more opportunities to play, more ways to meet people, more traditions, more partnerships, and more experiences that feel special because somebody cared enough to think about the details.

• Let The Loft keep becoming a clubhouse and a safe space. A place where you can walk in by yourself and know you belong there.

• Keep growing without losing what makes this feel like a community. Bigger isn't automatically better.

• Let our friendships extend beyond the mahjong table. Let's stitch together, start a book club, plan a fancy dinner, and take our hobbies on a trip.

Today, I turn 45.

And Mahj Styled turns one. A year ago, Mahj Styled was a loosely formed idea. Today, I can walk up the stairs and through the door of our not-quite-secret spot in downtown Wake Forest and see the evidence that it became something real.

Thank you to every person who took a class, sat down at one of my tables, came back for another event, told a friend, joined a league, sent an encouraging message, trusted me with an idea, or simply cheered this little business on. You built this with me and your support means more than I could ever put into words.

Happy first birthday, Mahj Styled. I can't wait to see where we go next.