For an extended period, I assumed that by dedicating myself entirely, around the clock, to my work, my child, my marriage, and my friends, everything would eventually align. Perhaps, just perhaps, I would manage to respond to every message, renew every prescription, kiss every scraped knee, and resolve all issues.

However, I have come to realize that we, particularly women—though not exclusively—often set ourselves up for defeat.

Within the medical field, there exists a culture, whether overt or subtle, that reinforces the idea that this profession is your entire life. It implies that nothing else can genuinely exist alongside it. Additionally, there is an unspoken judgment, especially from older generations or peers who have absorbed that mindset. A quiet dismissal of anyone who dares to seek work-life equilibrium.

Recently, I overheard two colleagues discussing someone who had missed work. One remarked, “Unless I’m on my deathbed, I wouldn’t take time off.” I wondered, “What does this reveal about the culture we’ve cultivated?” How can we possibly provide optimal care to our patients if we neglect our own well-being?

Moreover, society tends to exalt women most when we fully immerse ourselves in our roles.

– The self-denying mother.
– The indefatigable doctor who works until 10 p.m.
– The one who keeps saying yes until there is nothing left to offer.

We are lauded for our self-sacrifice. Compensated for erasing our identities.

Even with lost prescriptions, missed appointments, and emotional burdens, we are expected to be accommodating, composed, small, agreeable. It may not always be explicitly stated, but it is always sensed.

For years, I struggled to conform to that standard. I endeavored so hard to be “perfect.” Yet the reality is, perfection was never sufficient. There were continuously more messages, more obligations, and more expectations. Ultimately, despite all the hard work, I would let someone down: my patients, my family, even myself.

Thus, I started to ponder: Is there an alternative paradigm?

Could I attempt something different, solely for myself?

What I realized is that many of us exist in these unending cycles of overexertion, followed by escapism. Sometimes it manifests as a trip to Europe (no further comments here), and sometimes it involves purchasing 20 unnecessary candles. We seek to create brief escapes to feel something, anything, because it provides us with a sense of control.

But this is what I came to understand. The turmoil? The lack of control? It was something I had co-created.

I kept convincing myself of narratives like: if I could just stay up an extra hour to empty the inbox… If I offered my toddler endless, unconditional support (which, spoiler alert, is not going so well right now)… If I managed to do it all, balance would materialize.

However, the more I continue to live, the more I perceive: Balance is an elusive goal that we pursue but seldom attain.

– Perhaps it’s not about balance at all.
– Perhaps it’s about radical self-acceptance.
– Perhaps it’s about being authentic.

We inhabit a world that champions perfectionism and polished facades, where even genuine sharing makes others uneasy. You express, “I’m fatigued,” and it creates discomfort. People typically do not desire honesty; they prefer smooth interactions. They wish to inquire, “How are you?” and hear “Good!” so they can carry on with their day.

We feign having profound relationships, but the moment true intimacy is offered, it becomes overwhelming. If I show up genuinely awake, it compels others to awaken, too. And most prefer to remain asleep, dulled by screens or incessant productivity or noise.

Yet the individual we deceive most frequently is ourselves.

So here’s the reality: None of us possess a foolproof formula. We are all navigating this journey. Pretending, performing, striving. But what if we cease to pretend, at least to ourselves?

– What if we declare, “I’m fatigued today.”
– What if we allow our four-year-olds to hear “no,” and recognize that mommy cannot always respond affirmatively?
– What if we decline social invitations that don’t resonate with us?
– What if we refrained from compromising our own energy to be viewed as kind, virtuous, or accommodating?

Unless it’s an absolute yes, muster the bravery to say no.

Honor your own truth, even if no one else recognizes it.

This does not guarantee that everything will resolve smoothly. There are no certainties. However, the more candid we are with ourselves, the more authentically we can present ourselves. And perhaps, just perhaps, that offers others the permission to do the same.

Ultimately, we are all simply trying. Trying to be good. Trying to be sufficient. Trying to be loved.

But perhaps it begins with granting ourselves sovereignty, grace, humility,