Eunice Jaymie Tan shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Good morning Eunice Jaymie , it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I start my mornings with a little pillow talk with my husband. Sometimes it’s nonsense, sometimes it’s deep. It’s often just half asleep chatter! It’s our way of staying connected before the world starts moving.
Then by default, it’s a glass of hot water and a few minutes on the balcony to soak up the sunlight and get that serotonin rush to kick-start my day. I love that first light, it’s like a soft reset. This is when I get clarity about my day.
If it’s a social day, I’ll turn on some music and get ready to head out. Hair, makeup, outfit, the whole get-up. But if it’s my own personal day, I’ll throw on something completely unglamorous for the gym, a hike, or run errands. I love that balance, it makes me feel human.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I was born in Malaysia and now live in Los Angeles. I grew up between Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Melbourne in a Malaysian Chinese family shaped by its own traditions and expectations. Home is something I carry with me.
Over time my life became more public. I’ve been known as a Malaysian socialite ever since I stepped out of my quiet life in Melbourne. I did grow up in a privileged family, but my parents raised us to be modest, structured, and low key. Their rule was simple: stay humble, stay safe, and never make yourself a target. Attention was considered dangerous back then, especially in Asia, so privacy meant protection.
Even though life was comfortable and many of my classmates came from prominent families across Asia, we lived in a bubble of normalcy. We were raised to have purpose and responsibility and to never let comfort turn into complacency.
One summer break, I taught English at a public school in Hong Kong, and I fell in love with the work. My parents never pressured me into any path. They let me decide what kind of life I wanted to build. That led me to pursue a Master’s in Education at the University of Melbourne, and I ended up teaching for seven years. It was not glamorous. The hours were long and I struggled more than I expected. I almost quit after the first year, and my parents even encouraged me to come home. But I needed to prove to myself that I could build a life driven by purpose and not privilege. I wanted a life that felt earned instead of handed down. That choice shaped a lot of my confidence later on.
The socialite label came much later as my life became more public. Part of it comes from my background and part of it came after marrying my husband, who is a public figure. Naturally people became curious, not just about him, but about us.
People often ask if I feel overshadowed by his identity, especially in China where he is well known. But it has been the opposite. I’ve come out of my shell more than ever, and my husband is a pretty cool guy. Why wouldn’t I want to be known as his wife? I’m proud of who I was, who I am now, and who I’m becoming. These are just layers, and I am all of them.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
What breaks bonds between people is when connection turns into competition. When someone can’t simply be happy for another and feels the need to one up or redirect attention. It usually comes from insecurity, which is human, but once that insecurity starts running the show, the connection fades.
What restores bonds is genuine connection. It’s the confidence to let others shine without feeling like it takes anything away from you. It’s listening instead of comparing, celebrating instead of competing. If there’s no space for both people to exist fully, then there’s no real connection at all.
For me, that’s the most important thing in any friendship or relationship. I naturally gravitate toward sincerity, and arrogance has a way of pushing me away.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
The fear of what others think. When I was younger, I cared too much about how people saw me. I would sort of shape myself to fit whatever I thought was the most acceptable version of me. After a while, it felt like I was living for everyone else instead of myself.
Letting go of that has been one of the most freeing things I’ve ever done. That’s when I first learned how to love myself.
People will always have something to say and everyone is projecting anyways. As the saying goes, “damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” so you might as well do what feels true to you.
I’ve learned that the people who love you will love you regardless, and the ones who are committed to misunderstanding you never saw you clearly to begin with. Once that clicks, life opens up in a completely different way.
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What’s a belief you used to hold tightly but now think was naive or wrong?
That everyone knows what they’re doing. It’s everyone’s first time at life. Whether it’s a job, being a parent, a partner, a leader, being anything for that matter, everyone’s just winging it. I used to believe that everyone else had it figured out. That adults knew exactly what they were doing. That successful people had a clear roadmap and there were “right” ways to move through life.
But as I grew up, I realized we’re all just doing our best with whatever we have. There is no moment where you suddenly “arrive” and know everything. Even the people who look confident are learning in real time. Some are just better at hiding the uncertainty.
Because if nobody has it perfectly figured out, then there’s no need to pretend. The goal isn’t to know everything. It’s to keep learning. After all, change is the real constant.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What light inside you have you been dimming?
The light I dimmed was my voice. I used to make myself smaller to keep the peace, always agreeable and accommodating. It came from that “good Asian girl” upbringing where modesty is praised, but over time it became modesty to a fault. I softened myself to make everyone else comfortable.
Now, I don’t dim anymore. My light is in how I speak up for myself. When something doesn’t feel right, I say so. When I need space, I take it. I’ve learned that boundaries aren’t about building walls, they’re about being clear. And with that clarity, my relationships have become more loving, more honest, and more reciprocal.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @eunicejaymie
- Other: RedNote 小红书: eunicejaymie
Image Credits
Marc Patrick (Photo of Eunice Jaymie Tan in long black dress at Giorgio Armani)
