Mahjong Is The New Midlife Obsession

It’s only recently that I’ve become a game-player again. I spent much of my childhood playing Clue and Mystery Date. Eventually, those games gave way to boys, dating, marriage, and kids, followed by decades of being too busy to even think about, let alone wanting to play anything. (Don’t tell my child, but I had to dig deep to muster enthusiasm for every boring round of Battleship and Go Fish.)

And then everything changed when I discovered mahjong.

I wouldn’t say I have a mahjong obsession (not yet, anyway), but I do love to play—which is shocking for someone with minimal patience and the attention span of a goldfish. Even more surprising is that I persevered through several lessons, learning a game that requires serious focus and a square table, neither of which I possess.

Once a week, I meet up with a posse of women to play, laugh, and build friendships while calling out for cracks, bams, and dots. I’m grateful to be part of it, and I appreciate the effort that went into getting there.

I still remember my first lesson. I arrived nervous and left dejected, convinced I’d never get it. If you’re not familiar, mahjong tiles come in three suits—bams, cracks, and dots. And winds. And flowers. And dragons. The dragons pair with specific suits, except for the white one, which is called soap. And before you start to play, there’s a dance called “the Charleston,” where you swap tiles with other players even though you have no idea which tiles you need.

I wasn’t a raving fan after those first few lessons. I left exhausted, confused, and in desperate need of a nap. I think a part of me might still be reeling from the first day. Like, Whew! Excuse me, but I need to find a moment of zen! My brain is mush! Like, Oh my GOD! But I stuck with it. I kept learning, tentatively choosing hands, calling for tiles, and asking, “Wait… do red dragons go with cracks?” (BTW, early on, the immature 12-year-old in me mentally snickered every time someone said crack.)

And week by week, I realized I was starting to adore the game.

I love the challenge and the satisfaction that comes with winning a hand, and it’s a great way to spend time with old and new friends. We’ve all discovered our competitive sides, watching which tiles our opponents discard, stealing jokers, and inching closer to victory. Occasionally, I even get to say Mahjong! and want to leap up and do an end zone dance because I won AND EVERYONE HAS TO PAY ME TWENTY FIVE CENTS!

I haven’t gone completely off the deep end—no “Mahjong Mama” sweatshirt and matching ball cap - but I do appreciate being part of the mahjong community and proudly embrace my new “grandma hobby,” one that gives me space to think and tune out the noise.

Mahjong is the perfect reminder that midlife is a great time to try something new. Playing is proof that even a restless, impatient, can’t-sit-still type can find her happy place behind a wall of tiles. Like seriously, mahjong is a makes-everything-worthwhile game, and I can hardly believe that I get it. Mostly. Maybe. I still have moments of Help meeeeeeee! but always go home thinking Ahhh, good times!

I am officially hooked!

Have you ever played mahjong? Or found yourself in the middle of a midlife obsession you never saw coming?