Imagine if Vladimir Putin went to therapy, GJ Wee asks me. It’s a weekday evening and we are having cocktails at Republic Bar, an apt location considering the current conversation—mental health. GJ implores me to imagine a world where everyone, including the polarising Russian president, had a licensed therapist to talk to. The planet would likely be in a better state.
GJ is a vigorous proponent of therapy and talking things out. They go for one session every two weeks. “It shouldn’t be something you go for only when you’re feeling terrible. Even though I’m in a better place now, I go because there’s still a lot I need to discover about myself,” the 28-year-old says.
Life wasn’t always so clear-cut for GJ, who grappled with identity and living authentically while majoring in philosophy in Durham University from 2013 to 2016.
Society’s expectations had become burdensome and GJ admitted to going through multiple depressive episodes, compounded by being alone abroad.
“I struggled with a lot of things. It’s difficult to be authentic when you are figuring out who you are and what you want out of life. It took a long time before I realised I could live the way I needed to.” Inspiration came gradually instead of striking like a bolt of lightning, and GJ credits the regular therapy sessions and an incredibly supportive partner—“she is such a positive and bright light in my life and can really pull me out of my funk whenever I’m feeling dark and twisty”—for chipping away at the crippling doubts in their mind.
Born For Business
One thing GJ was certain of was becoming an entrepreneur. During dinners with their parents’ friends, a six-year-old GJ would draw “admittedly not great” portraits of the relatives present, approach them and sell the pieces for a few dollars. “Who can reject a child, right?” GJ laughs.
Incidentally, one of them still keeps the portrait to this day, and recently took a photo of the drawing to show GJ. He might live in France now, but GJ and family remain close to his heart.
Primary school was also another business arena. GJ would bake large cookies—chocolate and M&Ms were popular flavours—and sell them at $3 a pop. There was popcorn and other random food items, too, and their schoolmates became regular customers. It helped that GJ’s mother encouraged this behaviour, teaching them about revenue, profit and loss, and all the other financial terms pertinent to a small but thriving snack store. Then, a teacher discovered the entrepreneurial operations and shut it down. But that didn’t dent GJ’s ambitions.
After throwing the mortarboard into the air, GJ considered the options that would set them on the path to eventually starting a business. A two-month summer internship at Dymon Asia Capital stoked an interest in private equity. GJ also toyed with the idea of joining a venture capital firm. In the end, the clarion call of consulting—it offered GJ the opportunity to dip their toes into a myriad of projects across different industries—proved too strong to ignore.
GJ’s Boston Consulting Group two-year stint was a trial by fire that involved extensive travel and long and arduous working hours. It was an extremely stressful period. Then, during a routine health check, the doctor told GJ that they had high blood pressure. “I had to either make a massive lifestyle change or start taking medication. I was only 25.”
The next year, GJ quit.
I’ve never felt ashamed of [my last name]. Doing that would discount a lot of the effort and hard work of the people before me who have created the life I am fortunate to live right now.
GJ Wee on their famed business family
Balancing Act
The idea to start an all-encompassing holistic wellness club had percolated in GJ’s mind for a long time. A sporty individual, GJ’s schedule was chock-full of different activities, including yoga, Brazilian jiu jitsu, personal training sessions, physiotherapy, and a lot more.
“I spent so much of my time on wellness at different places. I thought it would be amazing if I could do all these activities in one place and have all these professionals talk to each other so that they could create the best regime for me,” GJ says.
The more they thought about the idea, the more appealing it became. The business idea also had a precedent. In New York, a place called The Well offered a laundry list of products, services, and experiences that promised to elevate patrons’ physical, mental and spiritual wellness. Even though it sounds like New Age mumbo jumbo, the company has opened outlets at two resort hotels in Connecticut and Costa Rica.
Asia, GJ opined, was primed for a similar eudaimonic revolution. Thus, The Trapeze Group was born. Its first concept: Trapeze Rec Club (TRC) at Tanjong Pagar. For a small country, Singapore is replete with gyms of all shapes, sizes, and exercises. However, it lacked a place that touched on the eight dimensions of wellness—emotional, physical, occupational, intellectual, financial, social, environmental, and spiritual.
The name itself is synonymous with the idea of balance. After all, a practitioner can only stay on a trapeze, whether static or swinging, if they have the requisite physical strength, mental toughness and calm demeanour. TRC offers a wide variety of classes to achieve this nirvana. More importantly, it wants to do this sustainably.
“For example, our fitness training programmes are poles apart from the Barry’s and F45s of the world. Our instructors place heavy emphasis on technique and we want the training you go through to be sustainable and promote longevity,” says GJ.
Photo: Cher Him.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating, or the trapeze swinging. When GJ started TRC, they envisioned most, if not all, of the members to be professionals in their 30s and 40s. The reality was slightly different. Folks in their 50s and 60s signed up, too, attracted by the club’s philosophy. GJ even met an auntie (local slang for an older lady in her 60s) who signed up for all-access martial arts classes. “She was so earnest.”
In business and life, GJ leaves the ego at the door, thanks to a lifetime informed by sports. For the company, while GJ helms the ship, they understand that the people they’ve hired are masters of their respective crafts and leave them to do what they do best.
“I like to hire people smarter than me,” says GJ. “I’m a hands-off leader and don’t like to micromanage. There’s a lot of trust in my team.” Employees have the freedom and flexibility to work anywhere they like, as long as their responsibilities for the day are achieved.
GJ walks the wellness talk, too. The Trapeze Group employs a four-day workweek and staff can take mental health days when they need it.
The flagship TRC Tanjong Pagar outlet is just the first brick in the wellness empire. GJ has big plans and wants to build The Trapeze Group to become Asia’s premier holistic wellness company.
Weight Of The Name
In many ways, GJ is forging their own path while being guided by the achievements of the family. It is impossible to craft a profile about GJ without discussing the surname—to do so would be a huge injustice to those before them who have made this impossible.
GJ is the youngest child of United Overseas Bank’s CEO Wee Ee Cheong, himself the eldest son of Wee Cho Yaw, the famed business executive responsible for transforming the financial institution into the behemoth it is today.
GJ acknowledges the privilege and the potential pitfalls that come with the last name.
“I’ve never felt ashamed of it,” says GJ, referring to the surname. “Doing that would discount a lot of the effort and hard work of the people before me who have created the life I am fortunate to live right now.”
Photo: Cher Him.
GJ distinctly remembers the first time they realised their privilege. It was during a church outing. GJ was 11. As part of a charity drive, a young GJ and their mother took a child out for a day of fun, and they realised their peer was nothing like them. “Her parents were divorced. It made me realise how lucky I was to have a complete, happy family, let alone live a comfortable life.”
Like their siblings—Teng Wen started hospitality group Lo & Behold—GJ wants to elevate those less privileged. It’s only the start of a long journey, but the word ‘impact’ is constantly thrown about during our conversation.
Refreshingly self-aware, GJ ticks off a checklist of other items that contribute to their privilege—being born Chinese in Singapore; being part of a majority; even being cognisant of their privilege is a privilege itself. After all, so many people are unaware of their genetic fortune and prefer lamenting about minor inconveniences, breeding discontent and unhappiness.
Perhaps it’s one reason the world feels so unhappy now. Statistically, we are currently in the most peaceful era in history with large swathes of the population living a solidly middle-class lifestyle. Yet, we gripe and moan endlessly, not recognising the privilege that we have.
Imagine if all of us went to therapy. The world would be more tolerant and everyone would thrive and live their best selves. Even Putin.
Videography: Alicia Chong
Photography: Cher Him
Styling: Chia Wei Choong
Grooming: Keith Bryant Lee, using Bobbi Brown and OUAI
Photography Assistant: Mikey
Styling Assistant: Jamie Wee
