How I Fell in Love with Mahjong and Built a Community in Utah

I didn’t grow up playing Mahjong. In fact, I hadn’t even heard of the game until I was older.

Like a lot of people, I started noticing it popping up in pop culture — the beautiful tiles, the quiet intensity — and then I saw Crazy Rich Asians. I know, I know, it sounds a little cliché. Maybe I am a walking cliché. But I love that movie. It’s one of my top comfort shows, the kind you watch over and over and never skip the ending.

I travel a lot for my day job, and Crazy Rich Asians has gotten me through many cross-country flights, playing in the background while I click-clack away on my laptop. You know that final scene, when Rachel, the economics professor with a secret superpower in game theory, faces off against Eleanor, the formidable mother-in-law? Every single time I get to that part, I pause whatever I’m working on and just watch.

There’s something about that moment: two brilliant women, an ancient game, and a silent conversation happening through the tiles. It’s strategy, grace, and quiet confidence all wrapped into one.

The Night I Finally Played

That scene got me curious.

Around the same time, American Mahjong started to have this second wave of popularity. I kept seeing these gorgeous tile sets pop up on social media — pinks, greens, acrylics, florals. My friend Abi had just learned to play, so (thank you, Abi) I pestered her until she agreed to teach us one night.

From that first night, I was hooked.

The game is so tactile, the clinking of tiles, the weight in your hands, the satisfying click when they line up. I could instantly see how this game could be passed down through generations. The tiles become heirlooms. The rules, though a bit cumbersome at first, give structure to the chaos. And somewhere in the middle of trying to make sense of the Charleston and remembering which hand I was chasing, I realized I was thinking again.

Why Mahjong Clicked for Me

I’ve never loved games of pure luck. They feel meaningless to me. I want a game that engages my mind, one where strategy meets intuition. American Mahjong checked every box.

After that first night, I did what most beginners do: I stayed up late scrolling through social media, watching tutorials, and falling down a rabbit hole of beautiful Mahjong tables and laughing friend groups. I couldn’t believe how big it was in the eastern and southern states — Texas, Florida, Georgia. There were Mahjong clubs everywhere.

But when I looked for something here in Utah, I couldn’t find a group like that.

“I didn’t set out to start a Mahjong club. I just wanted to play. But what I found was a sisterhood — one that keeps growing, one game at a time.”

Katie Poulsen, Founder Salt Lake Mahjong Club

When You Can’t Find Your Community, You Build One

I wanted to join a game that wasn’t in a bar, didn’t play for money, and felt more like a gathering of girlfriends than a gambling table. Using my marketing skills from years in tech, I thought, well… if it doesn’t exist, I guess I’ll build it.

I didn’t start this journey thinking I would start a Mahjong club, but here we are, and I can honestly say it’s been one of the best surprises of my life.

This game and this community have introduced me to so many incredible women I never would have crossed paths with otherwise. It’s joy, connection, laughter, and a little healthy competition, all wrapped up in one beautiful night.

And now, I can’t wait to teach more people and invite them to the table.

Because in Mahjong, as in life, the real win is who you play with.

More than a game, it’s a gathering