How I Run a Business Inside a Life That Never Stops Asking for My Attention

A personal reflection on ambition, motherhood, and making space for it all – without losing myself in the process.

There’s a version of balance that gets a lot of airtime in business circles.
Sunrise rituals, glowy morning routines, and two-hour creative blocks – all held in place by boundaries that feel built for someone whose time, home, and headspace are fully their own.

That sounds beautiful, in theory.
And truthfully, I’d love to weave more of those practices into my life – the intention, the space, the softness. But for now? I work with what’s real.

My mornings usually start with cereal negotiations and someone asking me where their shoes are.

I’m a mother of three small children – including twins – navigating school schedules, neurodivergent needs, emotional logistics, and the endless (truly, endless) noise of a household that’s always moving. One of my children has been on a reduced timetable since March, which means my workdays were suddenly cut in half with no warning. Add in the unpredictability of the academic year ahead, and you’ve got the kind of business environment that makes traditional productivity advice feel laughably irrelevant.

But I’m also ambitious. Deeply so.
I care about my clients. I care about my work. And I know I’m building something that matters – not just for others, but for myself.

So how do I run a business in the middle of all this?
Not perfectly. But powerfully.

Here’s what that looks like right now – not as a list of tips, but as a gentle reclaiming of how I choose to move through this season:

1. I’ve stopped waiting for stillness.

There’s no sacred morning routine here.
Sometimes there’s a ten-minute visualisation or an affirmation practice – usually with me declaring (half-sarcastically, half-seriously) that I’m a goddess of wealth and success. It’s not about the ritual. It’s about the reminder: I get to own what I want, even when the house is loud and my inbox is full.

2. Breathwork is my go-to when the energy spikes.

I don’t use it perfectly. I don’t always remember it.
But when I do, it grounds me fast. A few long exhales. A quiet moment with my feet on the floor. In a life that doesn’t give me many opportunities to pause, this is one of the few ways I can come back to myself in the middle of the madness.

3. I’ve shifted from long to-do lists to top 3 priorities.

In the past, everything felt urgent, and, to be fair, most of it really did need doing.
But I’ve learned to ask: what’s actually going to move the needle today? What will feel good to complete? If I can get through those three things, I’ve done enough.

4. I’m learning (slowly) to automate and delegate.

I’ve used meal delivery services. My email flows run in the background, nurturing new leads without needing my input. We have a weekly cleaner. I’ve got supplements on auto-refill for me and the kids. But I’ll be honest – it’s not second nature yet. This post is probably a timely reminder to myself to walk the walk a little more consistently.

5. I let good enough actually be good enough.

Some days, I’m proud of what I created. Other days, I’m just proud I remembered to eat.
And in this season of life, that has to be enough. Not as a compromise – but as a conscious, compassionate decision.

6. My business is built to match my energy and capacity.

Everything I create has to work within the reality of my days – the energy I actually have, the hours that are actually available, the life that’s happening around it all.

That means fewer moving parts, clearer offers, and space to breathe between deliverables.
Because if my business drains me, it’s not sustainable – and if it doesn’t honour my capacity, it doesn’t deserve my energy.

7. I’ve surrendered the idea of balance as a fixed point.

Balance isn’t a destination. It’s a daily negotiation.
Some days I’m fully present in my work. Some days I’m catching my breath between pickups. But I’ve stopped measuring my worth by how much I manage to juggle – and started measuring it by how kind I am to myself in the process.

8. By 7pm, I’m usually running on fumes and Love Corn.

My husband takes over, the kids get their time with him, and I stop pushing.
By that point, I’m incapable of making decisions – but fully capable of scrolling Rightmove for houses I will own one day. Not as an escape plan, but as a quiet reminder of what’s coming.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not productive.
But it keeps the flame lit. And sometimes, that’s the work.

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There’s no secret system here.
Just a woman doing her best, in real time, to honour her ambition inside a life that’s full to the brim.

This is what it looks like to run a business when nothing feels linear or simple.
It’s what it means to succeed in a season that’s more about surrender than scale.
And it’s the reminder I come back to again and again:

You don’t need more time. You need more grace.
More clarity. More energy. More space to trust yourself inside the mess of it all.

If you’re navigating something similar, I’d love to know: what’s helping you hold it together right now?
Leave a comment, send a message, share the realness. This conversation matters more than you think.