Jey Tran shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Jey, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What is a normal day like for you right now?
My life has changed a lot now that I have kids. Before becoming a parent, my schedule was pretty simple. I started work at 6:00 a.m. and finished around 8:00 p.m. During the day, I would teach fitness classes, train clients one-on-one, squeeze in my own workouts, grab lunch or coffee, and maybe even fit in a quick nap.
Now that I have kids, I can’t start work as early as before. My workday begins at 8:00 a.m. because my wife travels for work from Monday to Thursday. Each morning, I wake up at 6:30 a.m. to make breakfast for my two daughters, Mia and Misha. The usual menu includes grilled cheese, eggs or sausages, and orange juice. While they eat, I try to get myself ready for the day—though there are always a few interruptions.
After breakfast, I help them with their morning routine and get them dressed. We’re out the door by 7:30 a.m. School starts at 7:45, and I drop them off by 7:40. I return home and begin my workday at 7:50 a.m., with my first client scheduled at 8:00.
I usually train clients until 11:00 a.m. or noon, then grab lunch. In the afternoons, I often head to a coffee shop to work on my writing. I’m currently writing a book about my two-year journey from Vietnam to America as a refugee in 1982. Sometimes, I’ll meet up with friends or clients to catch up or talk about life.
In the late afternoon, I train more clients from 3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m., then pick up my daughters from school at 5:15. Once we’re home, I run their bath while I start preparing dinner for the three of us. After their bath, I help rinse them off, and we usually sit down for dinner around 6:00 p.m.
After dinner, I clean up and help them with their bedtime routine—brushing and flossing their teeth. From 7:00 to 7:45 p.m., we all get a bit of downtime. The girls get some screen time while I catch up on the news or sports updates. I tuck them in at 7:45, then wash the dishes and tidy up the house before starting my own evening routine. I’m usually in bed by 9:00 p.m. to relax and watch a movie. I go to sleep around 11:30 p.m., and then it all starts over again the next day.
At this stage of life, the routine may seem repetitive—even boring at times—but I’ve come to appreciate the structure. It keeps everything in balance.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi everyone, my name is Jey Tran. I’m 52 years old and one of the original Vietnamese “boat people” who fled the country in the early 1980s. At the age of 11, I arrived in America with my father and older sister after a two-year journey filled with hardship and uncertainty. Escaping Vietnam was a struggle, but it taught me the importance of resilience and perseverance—values that have stayed with me ever since.
I discovered the power of fitness during college. Growing up, I was always the skinny kid. I was bullied a lot, especially during my early years in the U.S., when I couldn’t speak English and was often teased for my “Asian look.” I didn’t get much attention from girls during junior high and high school either. That all began to change during my first semester in college.
One day, I was running late for class and had to cut through the school gym. I saw people working out, and one guy in particular caught my eye. I looked at myself and thought, “Damn, I need to work out!” The following semester, I enrolled in a weightlifting class. It was tough at first, but I stuck with it—and over time, it got easier. Within six months, I had gotten a lot stronger. The best part? I started getting noticed by women. At campus parties, girls were giving me their numbers—without me even asking. That was a big confidence boost for someone who had always been shy.
From that moment on, fitness became a part of my life. Even after college, I kept it up. I began my professional life as a special education teacher and taught for four and a half years. But when my father passed away, it changed everything for me. I started questioning my path and wanted to do something that I truly loved—something where I could make a difference. Losing him reminded me that life is short and precious. Why not spend it doing what you love?
So I decided to pursue a career in fitness. I didn’t know where to begin, but I took the first step and enrolled in a one-year fitness specialist program at Mesa College. After earning my certification, I started working at local gyms like 24 Hour Fitness and LA Fitness. I worked there for about 5 to 8 years before I decided to branch out on my own.
Eventually, I launched my own fitness brand: JeyFit. JeyFit is built on the same philosophy I live by—moderation in food, and consistency in workouts. I truly believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle, one that’s realistic and sustainable. So many fitness programs or diets out there aren’t designed for the long run. My approach focuses on balance and longevity, helping people make fitness a natural part of their daily lives.
What makes my training style different is my creative side. I never wanted to be one of those cookie-cutter trainers. I believe you can turn anything—and any place—into a workout opportunity. It’s all about mindset and willingness.
Over the years, I’ve helped many people shift their relationship with food and exercise. That’s something I’m really proud of—helping others overcome their struggles and build healthier, more confident lives.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
When I first came to America, I couldn’t speak or read English. The first few years were a major adjustment period. But surprisingly, the hardest part wasn’t learning the language or adapting to a new culture—it was dealing with the bullying, especially from one kid named James.
James had a reputation for picking on kids, especially those who had just come over from Southeast Asia. I saw him bully others, and eventually, I became one of his regular targets.
I still remember the moment I finally stood up to him. It was near the end of 6th grade during a game of four square with some friends. The ball bounced into James’ court, and instead of returning it, he held it high above his head. He was much taller than me and was trying to humiliate me by making me jump for it over and over. After a couple of jumps, I realized what he was doing. I stopped, looked at him, and calmly asked him to give the ball back.
He refused.
Without thinking, I jumped and kicked him. That sparked my first schoolyard fight. It didn’t last long—just a few minutes—before the recess monitor came over and broke it up. James threatened to come after me again after school.
The entire afternoon, I was filled with fear. I thought about leaving school early to avoid the confrontation. But deep down, I knew that if I ran away, I’d have to face him again—and again—for who knows how long. So I made the decision to stay.
I wasn’t planning to make the first move, but I promised myself that if James tried anything, I wouldn’t just stand there and take it—I would defend myself.
When school let out, a crowd of kids had gathered, watching and egging us on. For about 20 minutes, we stood there facing off. Then, unexpectedly, James walked away. And just like that, it was over.
In that moment, I felt liberated—like I had taken back my power for the first time in my life. I stood up to my bully. I remember standing there after the crowd had left and saying to myself, “Yeah, I finally did it.”
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
My father has always been my hero. Throughout our two-year journey from Vietnam to America, he never left my side. Growing up in the U.S. with just him and my older sister wasn’t easy, but we managed.
He carried the heavy weight of PTSD from the Vietnam War and the years he spent imprisoned afterward. There were times when he struggled with alcohol, but even through those dark moments, I knew he was doing his best to raise me into a good man. I owe him everything—for risking it all so I could have the opportunity to live in America, build my own legacy, and start a family.
When he passed away in 2000, it was a complete shock. I was only 27 years old. Losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through. His life was taken far too soon, and I never got the chance to repay him or take care of him. That regret became one of the deepest wounds I’ve ever carried.
What made it even harder was that the day before he passed, we had an argument. For the longest time, I couldn’t forgive myself for that. I didn’t realize just how much he was struggling with his mental health.
As the years went on and I began building my brand, I found myself not just helping people with their physical health, but also supporting them through their mental and emotional struggles. And in doing so, I realized—this is how I honor him. This is the kind of support he needed but never received.
Helping others has become my way of healing. It’s what I believe my father would’ve wanted. Over time, the guilt from that final argument began to fade. I’ve found peace in knowing that, through my work, I’m keeping his spirit alive—and now, I can finally sleep better at night.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. Is the public version of you the real you?
The public version of me is exactly who I am. I’m one of those no-nonsense people—what you see is what you get. I’m honest, direct, and not afraid to tell you the truth to your face. My integrity has always been worth far more than any public image or quick paycheck.
Here in San Diego, I’m considered somewhat of a local influencer. Over the years, I’ve had companies and brands approach me, offering to pay me to promote their products. While the money can be tempting, I’ve always had one rule: if I don’t genuinely believe in the product, I won’t recommend it—period. To me, taking payment to promote something I wouldn’t use myself is selling your integrity for a short-term gain.
There were a few brands that caught my interest, but before saying yes, I did my homework. If I truly like something, I’ll be a loyal, regular customer. But if I don’t, I won’t stay quiet about it. My goal is never to tear anyone down, but I want to be honest. I want all businesses—especially small, local ones—to do well. That’s why I believe constructive honesty is far more valuable than fake praise.
Most of my friends would describe me as straightforward. I don’t beat around the bush. On social media, in public, or in private, I’m the same person. Some people can’t handle the truth, but I believe the truth is always the right path. Sugarcoating things might make people feel better in the moment, but in the long run, it’s deceiving.
Lately, I’ve noticed a growing trend of influencers promoting restaurants, products, or services that aren’t even good—simply because they’re getting paid. In my opinion, that’s misleading and unfair to the audience that trusts you. When you’re an influencer, you have a responsibility not only to yourself but also to the people who follow you. They’re not just “views” or “numbers”—they’re real people who trust your word.
For me, influence isn’t about free meals, free products, or extra cash. It’s about credibility. And once you lose that, it’s almost impossible to get it back. I’d rather be known as the guy who told the truth—even when it wasn’t popular—than someone who sold out for a few bucks. Because at the end of the day, reputation is built on honesty, and honesty lasts a lifetime.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I truly believe that when it’s your time to leave this world, it’s your time. You can’t escape it. Death is inevitable. That’s why I believe in living the life you truly want to live—because you only get one shot at it.
For me, that means living the best life I can, helping as many people as possible along the way, and making a positive impact wherever I go. At the end of the day, all the money, possessions, and titles in the world mean nothing—you can’t take them with you. But what you can leave behind is something far more valuable: a legacy. A legacy that lives in the hearts of your family, your friends, and the people whose lives you’ve touched.
When my time comes, I don’t want a somber funeral. I want my family and friends to celebrate my life. I want them to share stories, laugh about the memories, and remember that I lived fully. If people can say I was an honest man and a good human being, then I’ve done my job. They can even call me an A-hole if they want—just make sure they add, “but he was an honest one.”
Before I leave this place, I want to “pay it forward” and make a difference in as many lives as I can. I want to honor the people who helped me along my own journey, because their kindness shaped who I am today.
I think about the stranger on the island who handed my sister and me a few coins when he saw two hungry kids sitting under a tree, waiting for our father to return from searching for food. With that money, we bought what became the best meal I’ve ever had—not just because of the taste, but because of the compassion behind it.
I think about the security guard at the Hong Kong refugee camp who quietly gave me two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when he noticed I was getting stomachaches from the cheese sandwiches they served. That simple act didn’t just ease my hunger—it gave me hope that there was kindness in the world beyond the barbed-wire fences.
And I’ll never forget Jeri Waterman, the woman who didn’t know us but chose to sponsor my father, my sister, and me. She expedited our paperwork, pulled us out of an overcrowded refugee camp, and gave us the chance to start a new life in America. Her kindness changed the course of my life forever.
Those people left permanent marks on my soul. They taught me that acts of kindness—no matter how small—can ripple across a lifetime. That’s the legacy I want to leave. Not one measured by wealth or status, but by the number of lives I’ve touched, the hope I’ve shared, and the love I’ve passed forward.
Because in the end, the best thing you can leave behind isn’t something you own—it’s the difference you made in the lives of others.
I also have exciting news to share.
🌟 From Refugee to Author 🌟
✨ Exciting Announcement ✨
I am honored to share that my book, Eyes Shut, Mouth Closed, will be officially released on November 7, 2025 through Austin Macauley Publishers.
This book has been decades in the making. It tells the story of my escape from Vietnam as a child and the two-year journey that shaped my life. For years, I shared pieces of my story with clients and friends, and they would always encourage me to write a book. In 2016, I traveled to Melbourne, Australia, where my uncle—the captain of the boat I escaped on—helped me fill in the missing parts of my journey. From there, the vision became real.
Eyes Shut, Mouth Closed is more than my story—it’s about the resilience and courage of the “Boat People,” and about the struggles we all face in life. My hope is that it will inspire you to reflect on your own journey and recognize the power of your story.
I would be so grateful for your support with this release. Following the launch, I will also be hosting a book signing event, and I would love for you to join me—details will be shared soon.
Thank you for being part of this journey with me. 🙏
Jey L. Tran
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jey.fit/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jey-fit-b3aba66/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JeyFit/
- Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/biz/jeyfit-san-diego-2?osq=jeyfit
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@Jey-Fit
Image Credits
All photos by Jey Tran
