Hey, welcome to MYJN
Pull up a chair, maybe grab a coffee, and let’s talk about how this all got started. You being here means everything to us, and we can’t wait to share our story with you.
Where It Began
He was around nine, standing quietly beside his dad when a shiny black car glided slowly past. It looked expensive, entirely out of place on their humble street. Without thinking, he softly asked, “Dad, what’s that car? Why don’t we have one?” His father paused for a moment, then gently replied, his voice carrying quiet sadness, “Those don’t come easy, kid.” He never forgot that moment. It wasn’t the car itself that stuck, it was realizing that some dreams felt unreachable for families like theirs, families who quietly struggled, played it safe, and never asked for much.
He grows up in a little house with a regular family, the kind who tell you to be thankful, keep your head down, and stick to the usual plan: study, get a degree, land a safe job and never take unnecessary risks. Anything else felt dangerous and uncertain. Each night, seeing his dad return home exhausted after another long shift, he felt a quiet ache. He knew he had to try something different.
When he began to dream of building something of his own, without resources or guidance, it worried them deeply. They feared he'd struggle, get hurt, or end up disappointed. But he held onto this dream, he vows to make things better, to lift his family up, do well in school, and one day start his own business, his parents could point to one day with quiet pride, knowing he'd found his own way and would truly be okay.
He never studied art or design. He was simply someone who trusted his hands and followed his heart. Someone who believed deeply that objects could hold feeling.
One afternoon, wandering through the lively streets of Penang, he stopped at a small bead shop. He chose crystals and wires carefully, instinctively, as if each one whispered its own story. At home, he turned them into bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Each piece small, yet holding something quietly powerful.
He saved just enough money for a stall at the Batu Ferringhi night market, arriving early each evening, hopeful yet nervous. He was young and shy, an outsider. Some nights, older vendors pushed him aside, tried to discourage him, acted as if he didn’t belong.
But he stayed. Through rain, through silence, through setbacks, pouring everything he felt into the pieces he made. Pieces he always searched for but could never find elsewhere. Pieces he quietly hoped might mean something special to someone else too.
That’s how MYJN started.
Not with a big plan. It wasn’t always easy. But he kept going because he believed that one day, these small pieces could become something people truly loved. Not just to wear, but to feel a part of.
Back in 2015, he was just a college student with a small dream and a old car full of tools and beads. Every evening after class, he’d pack everything into his old car and drive out to the Batu Ferringhi night market. His table was wobbly, the setup wasn’t perfect, but he showed up, night after night.
Sundays were spent at Hin Bus Depot, selling whatever he could make by hand. Stone necklaces, beaded bracelets, wire-wrapped rings, little earrings made from whatever materials he could afford that week. Some nights it rained. Some nights no one stopped to look. He’d pack up with cold hands and an empty cash box, but still, he kept going.
Every sale mattered. It wasn’t extra money, it helped pay rent, buy food, cover college fees. Just getting by depended on those tiny, handmade pieces. There was no brand yet. No name, no logo, no website. But the heart of it, making something meaningful, something honest, was already there.
In 2017, with a little bit of savings from years of night markets and pop-ups, he started MYJN in a small rented room in Penang. In those early days, someone close to him joined the journey. The name MYJN was originally inspired by their initials.
She helped with fulfilment, photography, and running social media. She had a strong visual eye, and a sense of style that made people pause and look closer. Together, they shaped the early identity of MYJN. She brought the art. He carried the rest.
He did what needed to be done, even when it felt like too much. He registered the company, paid for everything upfront, sourced materials, designed the packaging, built the website, wrote every product page, launched every campaign, ads, replied to every customer.
It wasn’t easy.
But slowly, people started to notice. Orders came in. Customers reached out. And he was still there at three in the morning, fixing bugs, answering messages, thinking about what was next. There were no holidays. No hobbies. No safety net. Just belief. Just two people doing whatever they could to make it work, one piece at a time.
You kept coming back.
You told your friends. You shared our pieces with people you cared about. And slowly, MYJN began to grow.
What started from a small rented room in Penang began to feel a little bigger. With encouragement from a close friend who truly believed in the vision, we made a big decision. We moved to Kuala Lumpur and opened a small studio. It was not fancy, but it was ours. A space to create, to build, to dream out loud. For the first time, it felt like there was room to breathe and imagine what MYJN could become.
That friend who believed in the journey became more than just support. They became a partner. Together, they co-founded a new lifestyle and fragrance brand, pouring the same kind of care and storytelling into scents that hold memory and meaning. It was never about trends or hype. It was always about creating things that feel real and honest.
What he build now is rooted in those early nights, those quiet markets, those small moments of belief, from you, and from the people who stayed when things were hard.
A team member left. It wasn’t just sudden. The relationship ended painfully. He came to understand the truth slowly. Bit by bit, heartbroken, quiet choices revealed themselves. While he was still holding on to the future they had planned together, something else had already begun to change.
Everything slowed. He carried a quiet sadness, and each day felt heavier than the last. Every night, he stayed at the studio alone, long after everyone else had gone home. Often until midnight, sitting at the same desk, trying to keep things moving, with tears in his eyes. He had no one to turn to. Years of working day and night had left him with little outside the brand. No distractions. No one to cry to. Just the work. Just the silence.
The studio no longer felt the same. The energy was different. The silence lingered. Alone in that small space, the weight was crushing. At one point, he thought about letting go. Selling the brand. Walking away from everything he had built. But he wasn’t built to quit.
He found comfort in quiet conversations. In colleagues who stayed close. In the unexpected warmth of his parents visiting the studio for the first time since he moved. Little by little, he began to rebuild, not just the brand, but himself.
He never spoke about what happened. He didn’t post. He didn’t complain. He stayed silent, out of heartbreak, out of sadness, and perhaps out of hope that time would allow things to settle on their own. He chose to trust the work. To trust the people who had been there since the beginning, with the creativity, the belief, our commitment to a new direction.
But silence comes at a cost. Over time, a different version of events began to take shape. One where the timelines blurred, the credit shifted, and those who hadn’t seen how it all began started to believe a softer story. Still, he said nothing. Not because he didn’t care, but because he had bigger things to protect.
His team. His colleagues. The brand. The work that still needed him. He believed that real work does not need defending. That the spirit of MYJN would carry forward. And those who have followed MYJN from the beginning, they would feel the difference.
And they did.
In 2023, a new teammate joined us quietly.
She began with fulfilment, replying to customer messages, wrapping each order with care, learning the rhythm of the brand one detail at a time. But from the very beginning, she saw MYJN differently. Where we saw routine, she saw opportunity. Where we saw familiar, she saw space to grow.
Different eyes see different things. And hers brought a new kind of depth.
What started as support soon became something more. She moved from the packing table to campaign planning, from inboxes to art direction. She never asked for a title — she earned one. She became our Creative Director not through labels, but through presence, clarity, and care. Through her lens, MYJN didn’t just grow. It matured. We began to speak with more intention. Launch with more feeling. Create with more meaning. Her vision helped us rediscover the heart of what we do, and carry it forward in every detail.
And in 2024, we took our biggest step yet: opening our first showroom in SS2, Petaling Jaya. A space not just to display jewellery, but to connect: with people, with stories, and with the quiet power of pieces made to last. It also marked the beginning of something new: the launch of our Atelier and Object lines, expanding MYJN into thoughtful design beyond jewellery.
And we’re only just getting started.
We’re still a small crew in Kuala Lumpur. Most nights, the only reason we leave the studio before 9pm is because the alarm says we have to. Our teammates never stay late. We don’t let them. We protect their time, even if it means carrying the rest ourselves. So we stay. Another five hours at the desk. Barely moving. Eyes tired, backs sore. We eat when the shops are already closed. We sleep when the world is quiet. Then we wake up and do it all again. Not because we’re chasing perfection. But because we believe in what we’re building. And we believe in doing it right.
We’ve seen our work copied. Our words reused. The story twisted and told by voices who were never there. It’s painful, but we don’t respond. We stay focused. Because we know what we’re building comes from a place no shortcut can reach. We’re not asking for sympathy. We just want you to know what it takes. What this really costs. Every piece we make carries that weight. That effort. That care. Maybe the people behind the brand don’t matter as much as how it makes you feel when you wear it. And if that feeling stays with you, then that’s always been enough for us. We hope you choose our pieces because they feel like something real. Something made slowly. Made to last. Made with everything we had to give.
We built MYJN slowly. No shortcuts. No big launch. Just time, care, and a quiet belief that something small could matter. We didn’t have the loudest voice. Or the clearest path. And then you came. Every necklace, every ring, every small decision you made to choose our pieces, you didn’t just support us. You told us, without saying a word, that you understood. That you saw the care behind the work. Your messages, your photos, your kindness, they’ve carried us through more than you know. Through the silent doubts. The hard weeks. The late nights when it felt like no one was watching. You were.
Because of you, MYJN didn’t stop. It became. You reminded us that something made with love, even in the smallest room, even with nothing to fall back on, can still reach someone. Can still live with them. Can still last. For wearing our heart, around your neck, on your wrist, in your ears and carrying it like it was your own. You’re not just part of this story. You’re the reason it kept going. And as we keep writing, piece by piece, we hope you’ll stay close.
Thank you for being here, This is a personal reflection by the founder, written to share emotional experiences from MYJN’s journey. It is not intended to refer to any specific individual, event, or relationship, nor to imply blame or wrongdoing. Any perceived similarities are purely coincidental.