I used to love my fancy corporate job. I felt so important, so proud. Just seeing the silver lettering of this company’s name on my résumé made me feel like I had made it. I was special, part of an elite group of employees who had managed to snag a spot in this globally-respected corporation.

But then, slowly, that feeling started to shift. That initial pride that once filled me began to feel hollow.  There were moments, tiny ones at first, that chipped away at my enthusiasm. And what started as a bunch of "oh no" moments led me to one Wednesday afternoon when I just…quit. Nothing ceremonious. No drama or fireworks. I was just done.

Looking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment when things started to change. Maybe it was the constant feeling of being on a hamster wheel, always running but never quite getting anywhere. The more I achieved, the more there was to do. Over time, no amount of work or accomplishment seemed like enough.

Then, I began to understand something more insidious. Because I was young, spouse-less, and childless, my time was seen as flexible. To my employer, my “free” time wasn’t mine at all—it was theirs. I became available by default. Sure, I was being paid, but the real currency wasn’t my salary; it was my time, and the boundaries around it seemed to vanish. There was no clock-out time. It was this never-ending loop of availability and output.

If any of this resonates with you, if you’re reading this and thinking, “Wow, I feel that too”-- let’s take a moment to check in. How are you feeling? Do you feel stuck on the wheel, too? Do you think balance is even possible?

Here’s the thing: work wasn’t just work for me anymore. It had become life. And yet, I was supposed to act like I could “balance” the two. It was the subtle, constant expectation that we should love our jobs enough to blur the lines between personal and professional. We’re told we can "have it all"—the perfect job, a thriving social life, time for self-care. But at what cost?

The Illusion of Balance

Here’s the hard truth: the concept of work-life balance is a myth. It’s not about finding equilibrium; it’s about constantly negotiating how much of your personal life you're willing to sacrifice. For the longest time, I used to think I could juggle it all—that if I just managed my time better or worked harder, I could make space for everything. But no matter what I did there was always another email, another deadline, another “quick favor” that turned into hours of work. The lines between my life and my job and personal life became so blurry they practically disappeared, leaving me drained day after day.

Ironically, this constant striving for balance just led to more burnout. The system is designed for perpetual motion, for constant availability. We’re told that if we just manage our time better, work a little smarter, we’ll figure out this mythical balance. But that’s just another burden we carry. 

When I finally quit, I felt guilty. But in the quiet that followed, I felt another shift. I wasn’t fighting for balance anymore; I was fighting for boundaries. I started to ask myself what I wanted my life to feel like. The scary thing? I had no idea. I’d been so wrapped up in the grind that I hadn’t thought about what I truly wanted outside of it.

Redefining Success and Balance

It’s not all doom and gloom and there’s a positive ending to this story, I promise. Now, after stepping away and taking time to reflect, here’s what I’ve learned: success doesn’t look the way we’ve been taught. It’s not about collecting fancy titles, climbing the corporate ladder, or glossy LinkedIn profiles. Success is about how much space you have in your life for the things that matter to you. It’s about the people you spend your time with, the projects that light you up, and yes, even the time you take to rest.

For so long, I believed that my worth was tied to my work. That if I could just push harder and juggle everything, I’d reach some kind of perfect balance. But here’s the thing: balance isn’t about splitting your time evenly between work and life. Sometimes, balance is found in knowing when to let go of the idea that you need to juggle everything in the first place.

So, if you’re reading this and feel trapped, if you’re starting to dread Monday by the time Friday rolls around, I’m here to tell you: it’s okay to step off the wheel. It’s okay to redefine what success means to you.

Take stock of your life. What do you really want? What makes you happy? And most importantly, what are you willing to let go of to get there? Balance might not be about perfectly splitting your time between work and personal matters. It might be about realizing that you don’t need to keep up with someone else’s journey or the traditional definitions of success that have become so deeply-ingrained within our culture. And that’s totally okay. I make a conscious effort to take breaks. Whether it's going for a long walk outside, catching up with friends over a game of pickleball (my current favorite), or sticking to my therapy appointments, these moments are essential for self-care. Stepping away from the screen and getting out of my own head helps remind me that my life is being lived.

Remember, you have the power to create the life you want, one where success is defined by how much joy and fulfillment you have, not how much work you can cram into a day. Don’t be afraid to take that step back, reevaluate what truly matters to you, and chart a new path forward.  

Because sometimes, balance isn’t about finding equilibrium—it’s about choosing to live a life that feels right for you.

 If this post resonated with you, drop a comment below. What are some things you’ve done to reflect, navigate change, and plan for your future? I’d love to hear your thoughts!