The Myth of Balance: Why We Can’t (and Shouldn’t) Do It All Alone

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been carrying a weight I can’t seem to shake. It’s not just the endless to-do lists or the constant juggle between work and home—it’s exhaustion. Not just physical, but mental, emotional, and, honestly, even spiritual.

I should be listening to my body. The headaches, the heaviness in my chest, the canker sores—clear signs that I need to slow down. And yet, like so many others, I don’t. I push through. I ignore the signals. Because somewhere deep inside, I’ve absorbed the message that rest is a luxury, not a necessity.

And I know I’m not alone in this.

The Unattainable Ideal

Growing up, I was sold a dream: You can have it all.

  • A thriving career

  • A beautiful home

  • A happy marriage

  • Well-adjusted kids

  • A fit body

  • Meaningful friendships

  • Time to give back to the community

It sounded empowering, but what no one mentioned was that having it all meant doing it all—often alone. And as much as we’ve fought for progress, there’s a creeping sense that some want us to step back. The message is that maybe we’ve reached too far, taken on too much, and that the solution is to give something up—our careers, our independence, our ambitions.

I reject that. Moving forward doesn’t mean doing everything ourselves. It means redefining what support looks like.

The Constant Trade-Off

After almost 19 years of being a mother, I’ve finally noticed a pattern. When things are going great at home, my work suffers. When I’m in a good flow at work, my marriage or my kids don’t get the attention they deserve. And let’s not forget about taking care of ourselves—that’s usually the first thing to go.

I book the hair appointments because they’re scheduled, but unless I physically block off time for real rest, it never happens. It’s a cycle that keeps repeating, and I know I’m not the only one who feels it.

What exactly are we telling ourselves? That if we just planned better, worked harder, or sacrificed a little more, we’d finally get it right?

What Are We Teaching Our Kids?

More than anything, I think about what this cycle is teaching the next generation.

They see us running ourselves into the ground, skipping meals, saying yes when we should be saying no, juggling responsibilities until we collapse.

Are we really showing them that success is possible—or are we showing them that it comes at the cost of our own well-being?

I want my kids to see that hard work matters, but so does rest. That success isn’t about proving our worth but about knowing we are already enough. That community and support are not weaknesses, but strengths.

They’ve seen me stumble—literally and figuratively. They’ve watched me cry behind closed doors, lock myself in the bathroom just to have a moment of quiet. They’ve also seen me take risks, some successful and some not. And they’ve felt what it’s like when I’ve been consumed by work.

But they’ve also seen me course-correct. They’ve seen me lean on others and give myself the grace to change. And that’s what I want them to remember.

The Power of Community Over Judgment

The reality is, we can’t do it all alone. And we were never meant to.

I was reminded of this recently when a few dear friends did something so simple yet so profound: they each made me dinner once a week for a month. One meal. Something off my plate, both literally and figuratively. And in that small act of kindness, I felt the weight lift—because for a moment, I wasn’t carrying everything alone.

That’s what real support looks like. When they saw I was struggling, they didn’t tell me to "figure it out"—they stepped in.

In a world that tells us we’re either failing or doing too much, we need to show another way. Not by judging the choices others make—whether they stay home, work, have kids, don’t have kids—but by creating a culture where asking for help is accepted, not judged.

When saying no because we have too much on our plate—or simply because we don’t want to—is met with understanding, not resentment.

Just this past weekend, while I was skiing and struggling to find a table for my family, a friend gave up her table so that Alex could have his lunch sitting down. I was so moved by this small gesture, it actually brought me to tears.

This is what we need more of. Less isolation, more community. Less judgment, more support.

Moving Forward

If you’re feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, like you’re failing in a dozen different ways—you’re not alone. And maybe the answer isn’t trying harder. Maybe it’s changing the rules altogether.

Here’s what I’m focusing on:

  • Asking for help – Because no one should have to do it all alone.

  • Creating boundaries – Saying no, stepping back when needed, and rejecting the guilt that comes with it.

  • Building community – Supporting those around me in small ways (a meal, a text, a check-in) and bigger ones (mentorship, collaboration, advocacy).

  • Leading by example – Showing my kids that success doesn’t mean running yourself into the ground.

We don’t move forward by pushing harder or doing it alone. We do it by standing together, supporting each other, and reshaping what success really means.

As we approach International Women’s Day, let’s take a moment to recognize how far we’ve come—and how much further we can go with the support of others. We can do it, just without the perfect hair, the perfect body, or the illusion of perfection.

Instead, with a great group around us, reminding us that we’re already enough.

Beth Maricic