| TL;DR Work-life balance is a myth, and hustle-culture is overrated. I’m building a business from scratch with zero safety net, but I refuse to trade my presence as a mom, wife, or friend for more revenue or someone else’s definition of “success.” My non-negotiables are clear: relationships first, hustle second, perfection never. I’d rather leave money on the table than regret missing what actually matters. The real ROI is a life and legacy worth sticking around for. Net net, forget the guru nonsense. You don’t get to “have it all” but you can build something you don’t want to escape from. |
This Isn’t Just Another “Mompreneur” Post
Let’s just get this out of the way. There’s no trust fund waiting in the wings, no “Uncle Bob” dropping off a business inheritance, and no magical safety net ready to catch me if things go sideways.
Everything I’ve built (Fastmarkit, my family’s future, and frankly, my own sanity) came from showing up when it was inconvenient, risky, or just plain soul-sucking.
I didn’t start a business because I wanted to sip coffee in pajamas at 11 a.m. (though let’s be real, sometimes I do). I started it because I wanted to work differently. Not just for the money, but for the shot at owning my time, setting my boundaries, and maybe, just maybe, being the kind of mom my kids remember for actually being there, not just for keeping the pantry stocked and the lights on.
But let’s get brutally honest. There’s no such thing as work-life balance, no matter what the productivity gurus are selling. Some seasons, my business is a screaming toddler that needs every ounce of my attention. Other seasons, my actual kids win out. In between, I’m making choices (sometimes by the hour) about what gets my focus and what gets a solid “maybe later.”
This isn’t your standard “look how easy I make it look” mompreneur highlight reel. This is the play-by-play of building a business from scratch while raising small humans, breaking cycles, and working on myself even harder than I work on my P&L.
It’s rarely balanced, almost never glamorous, and yes, sometimes fueled by caffeine and sheer stubbornness. But it’s always intentional. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
My Non-Negotiables: Motherhood, Marriage, and What Really Matters
Show me a person who treasures their analytics dashboard more than their kids, and I’ll show you someone who missed the point entirely. Truly, I’ve never heard a meaningful story that started with, ‘And then I optimized my LinkedIn posting schedule.’
Gabor Maté will tell you, and any parent who’s paying attention already knows that the first five years are foundational. They’re the years where your presence shapes how your child experiences the world, for better or worse.
And the work doesn’t end at kindergarten drop-off. Every year, every small moment, every dinner table conversation continues to compound. If you want a relationship that lasts, you keep showing up, even after the experts say your “impact window” has closed.
Time with your kids isn’t a one-and-done investment. It’s the one account that keeps paying dividends for as long as you keep showing up to deposit.
So yes, I’m shameless about this: I build my business around my kids. I show up at drop-off, I’m there for the sniffles, the meltdowns, the spontaneous living room dance parties.
And while I’m at it, I’m showing up for my husband, too, because marriage isn’t something you put on autopilot unless you want to wake up next to a stranger or worse, someone who’s memorized your Slack status more than your smile.
Same rules apply to friendships. The older I get, the more I realize my energy is my actual currency. If I’m giving my time, love, or attention, it’s not out of obligation or scarcity. I only pour into relationships where I feel just as replenished, because there’s nothing sadder than a bank account full of money and a soul bankrupt on connection.
I don’t know a single “crazy successful” entrepreneur who hasn’t admitted, often with regret, that they put their business before their kids, their marriage, or their health. Every last one of them would trade a zero or two from their net worth to get that time back. That’s a regret I refuse to stick on my bookshelf. Every day, I get to choose what (and who) gets the best of me, not just the leftovers.
I’m not immune to the temptation to chase outcomes, but I know how empty it feels to only celebrate the next win while ignoring the process and the people.
The truth is, the quality of your life really does come down to the quality of your relationships, starting with the one you have with yourself.
I’m wildly unattached to just the outcomes of my hard work.
What keeps me going is the drive to become the best version of myself, while actively unlearning everything I once thought was “good for me.”
Money can buy a lot of things, but it cannot buy a sense of wholeness, self-worth, or the peace that comes from being truly present for the people (and the moments) that matter.
So, yes, I’ll keep hustling. But if it ever comes at the cost of the people I love, it’s not a price I’m willing to pay.
Working on Myself Harder Than on My Business
Building a business from scratch is hard.
Unlearning half the stuff you absorbed growing up? Even harder.
The generational patterns, the unspoken rules, the beliefs about worth and work… if you don’t do the inner work, you end up building a shiny company on top of quicksand.
Therapy, self-reflection, uncomfortable conversations, and calling yourself out when you’re tempted to coast, none of this is optional if you want to actually break the cycles you swore you’d never repeat. I can’t show up as a present mom, a true partner, or a decent friend if I’m dragging around old baggage or running on autopilot.
Some mornings, my “work” starts before the sun comes up, and it looks nothing like spreadsheets or sales calls. Maybe it’s journaling through a hard truth, maybe it’s sitting with uncomfortable feelings instead of burying them in productivity, or maybe it’s being honest with my husband about how I’m really doing instead of keeping up the façade that “I’ve got this.” Because sometimes, I don’t.
The more I invest in becoming the healthiest, most self-aware version of myself, the more everything else levels up from my business, my marriage, my parenting, and my friendships. The real ROI isn’t just a bigger bottom line, it’s being someone I actually respect when my head hits the pillow.
There’s a “bleed-over” effect at play. When you model self-awareness, accountability, and real growth for your kids (and let’s be real, for your team and your clients, too), it changes what’s possible for everyone around you. My children don’t need a perfect mom or a perfect CEO. They need a human who’s actively becoming, who’s willing to unlearn the old playbook, and who refuses to settle for a version of herself that’s stuck on autopilot.
I care less about outcomes and more about becoming. The further I get in this journey, the more obvious it is that if I’m not willing to work on myself, everything else I build is just a fancier version of stuck.
Grit, Ambition, and Building Without a Plan B
There is a massive difference between building a business because it’s trendy and building a business because there’s no alternative. No trust fund. No family to bail me out if it all goes sideways. No backup plan quietly waiting in the wings. This is it. Every month, every project, every call matters.
It means my ambition isn’t optional. It’s wired into survival. I’m not hustling because it looks good on LinkedIn or because some influencer told me to grind. I’m doing it because providing for myself and for my family is non-negotiable. My kids don’t just need a present mom, they need a provider, a creator, a living, breathing example of resilience.
Of course, that pressure isn’t always romantic. Some days, the business gets the best of me, not because I love it more, but because the bills don’t pay themselves. There are nights when I’m at my laptop long after bedtime stories are finished. It’s not the picture-perfect ideal, but it’s real, and it’s necessary.
Honestly, there are times when my business does have to come first. Sometimes, you make a decision knowing it will pull you away from the “ideal” balance so you juggle through the struggle.
I’m not just what I do, but what I’m building. I’m creating something out of nothing, with no safety net and no guarantees. That takes a kind of grit you can’t fake, and a level of ambition that most people will never understand.
But that’s what makes it worth it. I am showing my kids that you can build something out of thin air, that you can face the fear and do it anyway. My story is not just about what I accomplish, but who I become along the way because when you have no plan B, you figure out how to make plan A work, no matter what.
When Business Takes Priority (And Why That’s Not a Crime)
There are evenings when my phone is practically glued to my hand at dinner. My kids have absolutely called me out for checking Slack when I should be listening to their latest playground saga.
And yes, sometimes my husband and I “date” on the couch with our laptops between us, trading glances and Notion tasks instead of wine and candlelight. It’s not always Instagrammable, but it’s honest.
Oh and the guilt does creep in. The voice that says I should be doing crafts with my kids instead of answering client emails at 7 p.m., or that I’m somehow less of a mother if I care about the work I’m building.
Here’s my take: I refuse to let guilt boss me around. My kids aren’t growing up with a mom who’s afraid to chase big things. They’re growing up watching someone build, fail, learn, and try again.
If you think kids only learn from the perfect moments, you haven’t spent enough time with a toddler. My children see me working hard, but they also see that I’m building something meaningful. They know why I work late sometimes, and more importantly, they know who I’m doing it for. They aren’t just seeing a mom; they’re seeing a builder, a woman who didn’t play it safe or wait for permission.
There’s a bigger lesson here. I want my kids to understand that building something from scratch takes work, sacrifice, and the guts to keep going even when it’s easier to quit. Sometimes, business takes priority because providing for them is part of loving them. I’m not just showing up for my clients, I’m showing up for our family’s future.
I’m modeling what it looks like to give your all, love your people fiercely, and never let anyone else define what “enough” looks like for you.
Why I’ll Always Choose the Finite
Work-life balance is a myth sold by people who profit from your exhaustion. There’s no magic formula where everything fits neatly, nobody’s left waiting, and you end up richer and more present than ever. There are only tradeoffs.
Every single day, I make choices. Sometimes it’s, “Do I chase another $50K, or do I say yes to a spontaneous hike with my kids?” My business is infinite and I can always chase another client, launch another project, or make up lost revenue. Time with my kids? Well shit… that’s vanishing with every year, every school pickup, every kitchen-table story about recess.
This is the uncomfortable truth most entrepreneurs avoid: some opportunities you pass up don’t come back, and you have to be okay with that.
I’m not pretending I can do everything, or that I don’t have those “what if?” moments. But I get to decide what “enough” looks like, and more importantly, who gets the best of me when it actually counts.
That’s the only real control I have in a world that’s always pushing for more. I’ll never regret leaving money on the table if it means stacking up memories with my kids. Business is limitless. Childhood isn’t.
I don’t believe in balance. I believe in conscious tradeoffs, and I’m perfectly happy letting my profit ceiling stay a little lower if it means my relationships rise much, much higher.
Building a Life I Want (Not One I Need to Escape From)
There’s a whole industry built on convincing you to “grind harder,” “outwork the competition,” and treat exhaustion like a status symbol.
Sorry, not buying it. I didn’t start my business to become the most tired person in the room. I started it to build something I actually want to wake up to and a life I don’t need to take a vacation from, especially one my kids don’t grow up resenting.
That means rejecting hustle-culture and the martyr Olympics. I’m not chasing gold stars from strangers on the internet or burning out for applause I’ll never hear. The real flex is choosing meaning and intention over appearance and approval, every single day.
So, how do I actually stay present, even when life feels like an endless checklist?
Boundaries are my best friend.
I’ve learned to say no, even when it means disappointing someone.
My non-negotiables are crystal clear: my family, honest conversations with my husband, time with friends who fill my cup, and space to do the inner work I wish my parents had done for themselves.
My kids don’t need a flawless mother or a business that makes Forbes drool. They need to see what it looks like to break cycles, set boundaries, and pursue real joy. That’s what I want them to inherit, not just a trust fund, but the tools and mindset to build something beautiful in their own lives.
Success for me isn’t just about profit margins or new client logos. It’s about building something worth passing down, not just in dollars, but in values, resilience, and self-respect.
That’s the life I’m building, one imperfect, intentional day at a time. And this life not only looks good on the outside but it feels damn good on the inside.
