
It was 9 PM on a Tuesday. Ronak was finally asleep. The dishes were still in the sink. I had three unfinished blog drafts open on my laptop, a work project due by Friday, and a text from a friend I hadn’t responded to in four days. I sat there thinking: “I’m failing at everything.”
That’s when it hit me. I was chasing work life balance, this impossible idea that I could split myself perfectly between motherhood, career, health, and everything else. But that version of balance? It doesn’t exist.
The Work Life Balance Myth We’ve Been Sold
Somewhere along the way, we bought into this idea that we can have it all, all at once, all the time. That if we just try hard enough, plan better, wake up earlier, we can split ourselves perfectly down the middle: 50% amazing parent, 50% crushing it at work, with enough leftover energy for self-care, friendships, hobbies, and maybe even a social life.
We’re told that work life balance means giving equal energy to every part of our lives, but that’s not how life actually works.
The problem? Life doesn’t work in equal portions.
I was trying to be 100% at everything and ending up at about 60% everywhere. My content felt rushed. My time with Ronak felt distracted. My workouts were inconsistent. My job search felt half-hearted. And I was exhausted.
The Instagram version of my life looked put together. Toddler activities, healthy meals, progress photos from the gym. The reality? I was running on fumes, feeling guilty about whatever I wasn’t doing in that moment.
Balance implies everything gets equal weight. But life doesn’t work that way. It works in seasons.
What Works Better Than Work Life Balance: Seasons of Focus
I stopped trying to balance everything and started asking myself a different question: What season am I in right now?
Some weeks, work is the main character. I’m deep in job applications, updating my resume, learning new skills, pitching brands, batch-creating content, building my email list. During those weeks, dinners are simple, playtime is shorter, and I give myself permission to let other things slide.
Some weeks, Ronak and family take center stage. We’re traveling, hitting milestones, navigating sick days, or I just need to be fully present for morning sensory play and afternoon dance parties. During those weeks, my blog posts might be minimal and my inbox can wait.
Some weeks, it’s about me. I’m prioritizing my resistance training, starting new fitness classes like Pilates, getting my nails done, curling up with a good fiction book, or just giving myself space to recharge. During those weeks, I say no to extra commitments and protect my energy fiercely.
And honestly? Some weeks I’m in survival mode. Everything gets 60%, and that’s okay too.
Here’s What This Actually Looks Like
Work-Heavy Season:
There are stretches where I’m laser-focused on career growth. Updating my resume, learning new AI-driven workflows, pitching collaborative content opportunities. I batch two weeks of social posts in one afternoon, keep meals stupidly simple (hello my friend DoorDash, or should I say MomDash, and thank you Tej for cooking), and communicate with my family that I need focused work time. Ronak gets quality screen time with educational shows, and I don’t apologize for it.
Family-Focus Season:
Last month in December was all about the holidays, time off, and family bonding. Work got the bare minimum. I posted when inspiration struck, but I didn’t force it. I let emails sit. I said no to a few opportunities that would’ve pulled my attention away. Because presence with Ronak during those moments? That can’t wait. Those memories don’t get a redo.
Self-Care Season:
There have been weeks where I needed to prioritize my training and my mental health above everything else. I started a Pilates class. I got my nails done without rushing. I actually finished a fiction book I’d been picking up and putting down for months. Fewer blog posts went out. I turned down playdates I didn’t have energy for. I went to bed early without guilt. Because if I’m running on empty, everything else suffers anyway.
If you’re struggling with letting go of the super mom myth and the guilt that comes with it, you’re not alone.
Maintenance Season:
And then there are the in-between weeks where nothing is urgent, nothing is on fire, and I’m just keeping all the plates spinning at a manageable pace. These are the seasons where I catch my breath and plan for what’s next.
The Permission You’re Waiting For
Here’s what I wish someone had told me sooner: You don’t have to be great at everything right now.
Letting one thing take priority doesn’t mean you’re neglecting the others. It means you’re being intentional about where your energy goes. It means you’re choosing what matters most in this moment, knowing that the other things will get their turn.
Rest is a season too. So is rebuilding. So is trying something new and failing at it before you figure it out.
You can revisit, recalibrate, and shift focus as life changes. In fact, you should. Research shows that trying to multitask across multiple priorities actually decreases our effectiveness and increases stress.[1] Because rigidly trying to maintain perfect balance in every area all the time? That’s not sustainable. That’s a recipe for burnout.
You’re not failing. You’re just trying to water every plant at once. Some seasons, the work plant gets the water. Some seasons, it’s the mom plant. Some seasons, it’s the YOU plant. They all grow, just not all at the same time.
What Changed When I Let Go
I stopped apologizing for not having it all together at once. I stopped feeling guilty when one area got more of me than another.
I stopped chasing the traditional idea of work life balance and started living with intention instead.
I started communicating better with myself, with my family, with my audience. “Hey, I’m in a heavy work season right now, so content might look different.” Or, “I’m prioritizing family time this week, so I’ll get back to you next Monday.”
I started seeing progress instead of failure. Because when I focus on one thing at a time, I actually move forward. When I try to split myself into pieces, I just stay stuck.
And honestly? I have more energy now. Not because I’m doing less, but because I’m not carrying the weight of guilt and unrealistic expectations everywhere I go.
This concept aligns with what productivity experts call time blocking and seasonal goal-setting[2] focusing energy on what matters most in each phase.
So, What Season Are You In?
If you’re reading this and feeling like you’re failing at balance, I want you to know: You’re not. You’re just human.
Maybe it’s time to stop chasing balance and start living in seasons.
Ask yourself:
- What needs my focus most right now?
- What can I let go of temporarily without guilt?
- What season will I be in next month, and how can I prepare for that shift?
You don’t have to do it all at once. You just have to do what matters most today.
And that? That’s more than enough.
What season are you in right now? I’d love to hear what’s taking focus for you lately. Drop a comment below.
References
- American Psychological Association. (n.d.). Multitasking: Switching costs. APA Topics in Research. https://www.apa.org/topics/research/multitasking
- Todoist. (n.d.). Time blocking: How to use this productivity method. Todoist Productivity Methods. https://todoist.com/productivity-methods/time-blocking

Reading your blog feels like reading a book filled with life lessons. There is so much honesty and wisdom in the way you share how to face life. This is the true definition of a strong woman and an authentic voice—one that guides others to live genuinely and choose the right path. I love this and keep being you Darpan
This comment just made my whole day. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and for these incredibly kind words. Honestly, I’m just trying to figure it all out like everyone else, but if sharing my messy, real journey helps even one person feel less alone or find their own path, then it’s all worth it. Your support means more than you know. Thank you for being here.
I love this. Life is a lot like a stage. Sometimes, our children take the spotlight, standing at the very center. At other times, our focus shifts, and something else steps into that space.
There are always others (family, friends, our support systems) sharing the stage too—and the light doesn’t stay in one place. The spotlight moves, gently shining on different people and moments as time goes on.
Love your writing and your perspective!
Shine on Darpan!!
Aw thank you so much for such a beautiful expansion on that metaphor. You’re so right—the spotlight isn’t meant to be static. Learning to trust the movement of that light, and knowing that it’s okay for us to step into the center sometimes while our support system holds the stage, is where the real growth happens. Thank you for being part of my writing journey and for the constant encouragement to keep shining!