A Dream of Balance

It’s Tuesday morning, and I took Monday for me and went skiing.

This has been a ritual I’ve been slowly creating over the last couple of years, back when I had this big dream that one day I would only work three days a week. Meetings, workshops, everything all packed into three focused days. I imagined being organized, having the right help in place, taking Mondays for myself, Fridays with my youngest son until he started school, and keeping weekends fully off for family and life.

When I say this dream out loud now, it still feels a little surreal. Just twelve months ago, my life looked completely different. I was working every waking moment, including weekends, just trying to make everything work as a business owner and a mom. I was up till midnight, waking in the middle of the night for my kids, seven days a week, on repeat.

The Guilt of Rest

So I had this vision. A big one. And what I’m realizing now, after working with so many clients, is that I am not alone. When we create rest for ourselves, whether it’s a sabbatical, a full day off, or even just a few hours to take care of ourselves, we often feel something totally unexpected. And frustrating.

We feel guilt. Not for doing something extravagant, just for taking a day off, going skiing, going on a solo walk, seeing friends, sleeping in, taking a nap, reading a book, or doing something fun. Somehow those ordinary moments feel indulgent. I feel embarrassed, almost like I don’t deserve it. Like I shouldn’t rest. Like I have to operate at a high level all the time.

Why Women Feel It More

And for women, especially if you have kids, multiply that feeling by a hundred. The message we’ve been given over and over again is that we come last. We’re the nurturers, the caretakers, the ones who hold everything together.

Flip open almost any history book, and women are largely absent unless we’re portrayed as homemakers caring for children. That modeling has been passed down for generations. We work, we serve, we support. And while I love my role as a mother more than almost anything else on this earth, I’ve come to see that the deeper programming—that our needs are somehow less important than everyone else’s—is complete and utter bullshit. I’m done with it.

Discipline Creates Space

For the last twelve months, I’ve been living by a mantra. Discipline creates spaciousness. It actually takes enormous discipline to rewire your brain, to say no to money, no to a client, or sometimes not even no, but simply, I’m not available that week. My kids are on spring break. How does next week look?

It sounds simple, but I had to retrain my brain to say it. Months and months and months of practice.

In January, I made a bold commitment. I would take twelve full weeks off this year, aligned with my kids’ school calendar. That was the line in the sand. And I’ve stuck to it. I’m about to take two full weeks off for spring break with my boys. Two whole weeks filled with play, creativity, fun, and absolutely no paid work. It’s a luxury, yes, but it’s also the result of how hard I’ve been working to build something different.

Permission Is the First Step

I could talk about the logistics, about how someone affords this kind of time off, but the first step isn’t strategy. It’s permission. Permission to believe that I deserve rest. That I am worthy of rest. That a regulated nervous system matters. That taking time for myself isn’t selfish, it’s necessary.

As a business owner, I’ve also had to recognize something else. I get to design my schedule. I don’t have to live under scarcity anymore, under the fear that saying no to a client or a date will make everything fall apart.

In fact, as I walk away for these two weeks, something incredible is also true. I have a six-month business emergency fund fully set up. Every dollar that’s come into my business has been saved with intention and care. That level of financial discipline is another thing women often aren’t taught. Our financial success hasn’t historically been centered or celebrated. But things have changed. I’ve built a six-month runway, which means as I step away, I don’t have to worry about new clients or paying myself for half a year if I had to. That, my friends, is freedom.

Why Do I Still Feel Guilty

So why the hell do I still feel guilty? It’s almost like my brain recognizes safety and immediately rejects it. That can’t be real. Something must be wrong. The other shoe is about to drop. Maybe a client will leave. Maybe a project will fall through. Maybe I’m missing something.

And so I find myself gently reminding my brain over and over. That’s okay. If a client drops, that’s why the emergency fund exists. If someone asks for something during my time off, I can say no. I can hold the boundaries I’ve worked so hard to create. I am saying yes to rest.

Rest Isn’t a Reward, It’s a Right

Honestly, this might be the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn in business so far. And I know I’m not alone. I see this same pattern in so many of my clients, just different colors, different circumstances, different stories. But underneath it all is the same struggle. Learning that rest isn’t a reward we earn at the end. It’s something we deserve along the way.

Give Yourself Permission

Permission to take the nap.
Permission to say no.
Permission to leave the kids with someone you trust and grab a drink with a friend.
Permission to go for a walk in the forest.
Permission to turn down the client who is completely misaligned.
Permission to say yes to yourself.
Yes to your freedom.
Yes to the life you actually want to live.
Yes to your needs.

Rest. That’s it.