We're six women in Cypress — a Houston suburb that voted the way it did, liberal blue dots in red soil. We found each other looking for somewhere to speak our real feelings, and we stayed because we found something better than commiseration: a circle.
The mahjong was almost an accident. Two of us learned, taught the rest, and within months it had become the reason we gathered every single week. The tiles gave us a shape — a ritual — a thing to hold while we held each other.
That's the West Wind Ladies. We started as six, and we're building it outward across Cypress — table by table — for every woman looking for the same thing we were.