Episode #360 – How to “Have it All” by Breaking Just One Little Rule

This is episode 360 of the Brilliant Balance podcast, and today we’re talking about how to “have it all” by breaking just one little rule. So, thank you for tuning in to this week’s episode. Before I get too far, I want to really thank you for the extraordinary response to last week’s episode. If you missed it, you’re going to want to go back and check out episode 359, in which I made a bold announcement—no pun intended—that introduced you to the idea of a brand-new membership called Bold that I have introduced to you, the listeners of Brilliant Balance and the Brilliant Balance community at large.

We’ve been at this for a while together, so there are many of you who are loyal listeners who have been around watching the evolution of Brilliant Balance. It is very exciting to finally share this thing with you that we’ve been quietly building with a small community of women behind the scenes. To reveal it to all of you as listeners and members of this community was just an exciting day—one that had a lot of energy behind it. So, that episode went live a week ago, and I’m so grateful for the messages I received and the response it generated.

In that episode, if you listened, you heard me invite you to come learn more about all the details of what’s included in the membership so you could decide whether or not you want to apply. I was sharing that this is a selective membership, right? There are tons of memberships out there that you can just sign up for, but this one is selective. It’s application-based because of some of the very specific nuances around how we’re building it and who we’re building it for.

In last week’s episode, I talked about women who can’t get to the big things they want to do because they’re so busy doing all the little things. They’re overloaded and fighting this nagging sense of failure that maybe they can’t quite put their finger on, but they know there’s more—something big they are supposed to be able to do, something they feel inside but can’t figure out how to make happen. That’s who we’re building the Bold membership for. So, whether or not you heard that episode, if that sounds like you and you’re curious about what we’re putting together, we have an exciting, last-minute opportunity for you to come and hear about it. Just go over to brilliant-balance.com/bold, and you’ll find the information there about how you can join me for the launch party.

It’s happening ASAP as this episode drops, so I want to make sure you get a chance to attend. If, for some reason, you miss the launch party, we’ll make sure the same site reflects how to get the details about Bold whenever you discover this episode. It’s an exciting season around here as we bring this to your attention and invite you to join Bold. I’m really excited about what we have in store this fall and in the year ahead for the women who come along for the ride. So make sure you visit brilliant-balance.com/bold to get all the details.

Now, today I want to come back to this idea of having it all. I fully realize that’s a loaded phrase, right? There are some of you who may be listening and thinking, “Yes, I do want to have it all.” But broadly, I think the collective sentiment among women today is, “I don’t even know if that’s possible.” Back in the day, when we were told we could, in fact, have it all—that we were going to be the women who had it all—we were given a lot of advice. And that advice led us on a predictable path. We picked up a whole bunch of roles—a bunch of jobs or responsibilities—along this path over our lifetimes.

It started off not too difficult. The playbook, if you will, for how to have it all as an adult woman began with getting a good education. Check—done. Easy. A lot of us went off and said, “Yes, I can figure that out.” Then it was about establishing a career. Check—done. Obvious next step. Then we had to buy some things—like a car and, eventually, a house. Then, find someone to spend our life with—no small task for some of us. Then maybe have kids and raise them—not just have them but figure out what to do with them after we have them. And then we had to get ourselves involved in our communities—as volunteers or active members in various organizations, like our church, our children’s schools, or other clubs and nonprofits. And this was modeled for us. We watched women older than us do this. I certainly remember watching my mom follow a lot of that same path—the education, the career, the car, the house, the partner, the kids, and the community involvement, with a strong push to volunteer and give back.

As life went on and we climbed the ladder, which was part of it—getting promoted and moving ahead in our careers—that gave us the chance to upgrade everything. Part of the vision of having it all included better versions of the starter versions: a better car, house, wardrobe. Climbing the ladder earned us accolades—professional accolades, maybe even awards for the service work we were doing—and, of course, we all wanted to be “Mom of the Year.” All the while, we were making time for memorable experiences—the birthday parties, anniversaries, travel, vacations, all the things we were doing to mark milestones while being fully present. And through it all, we were finding our purpose and making a difference.

But the list started to feel, at some point, a little—or a lot—less realistic. And I think that’s really the rub. This whole list of things we said we were going to do, not only were we going to do them—or, in some cases, have them—but each one came with its own rulebook. Each role and experience didn’t just come with a directive to do it; there were specific ways to do it “right.” And while the rules varied depending on who was giving us direction, it always felt like there was a right way to do things.

For example, when I went to Cornell, I thought there were a few very important things to being a student there. Academically, I was like, “I’m taking no fewer than 18 credits a semester.” It wasn’t required; it just felt like a rule. I had to rush a sorority, and I had to have season hockey tickets. If you went to Cornell, you know. None of these were written rules, but they felt like it.

When I started at Procter & Gamble as a new hire, I picked up the rules by observing others. For example, in sales, you had to be 10 minutes early to every meeting. If you weren’t 10 minutes early, you were late. Another rule was not to put a location restriction on your annual performance review. Every year, we had the opportunity to share some things about our career development, and I learned very clearly that I shouldn’t restrict my location, or I wouldn’t be offered the best assignments.

When I became a new mother, there were rules about how to parent. For instance, “Don’t pick the baby up in the middle of the night, or they’ll never sleep through the night.” Postscript: I never did that, and everyone survived. Breastfeeding was another area full of rules, with lots of debate about the right way to feed a child. And then there was scrapbooking. I’m a bit of an older mom, so when my oldest was born, scrapbooking was a thing. We weren’t fully into digital photography yet, so building baby books was like a rule.

Eventually, when I started my first business, there were unwritten rules about being an entrepreneur. The hustle and grind culture told me that if I wasn’t working 24/7 and sleeping under my desk, I wasn’t committed. Another rule was to go get funding. If you wanted to be a successful entrepreneur, you needed angel investors or venture capital.

None of these rules were written down, but they were easy to discern by observing what the most successful people did. The problem was that every role I took on had one sneaky rule attached: “Do everything yourself.” At the very least, show that you’re willing to do it all. Put in the hours, roll up your sleeves, and don’t ask for help. Never say, “I don’t think I can do all of this.” That’s the rule I’ve come to believe limits our ability to live the big, full lives we want.

Even if you have the big, full life, you won’t have the freedom to enjoy it if you’re too busy doing everything yourself. It feels like if we let go of anything, there will be repercussions. But what are the real consequences of holding on to everything?

First, it feels like cheating if you don’t do everything yourself. I’ve always wanted to prove that I’m capable of doing things without help. Second, we fear people will think we’re incapable—like we don’t have what it takes if we delegate tasks. Third, we worry about inconveniencing others—especially at home. We say things like, “My husband helps with that,” or “My kids help with that,” implying that the work is ours and they are just helping. Finally, we fear people will think we believe we’re too good for certain tasks, leading to potential backlash.

However, by holding onto everything, we’re creating problems for ourselves. We create an upper limit problem, limiting our ability to grow. We reinforce the false belief that we have to do everything ourselves. We rob others of the chance to shine, and we set a bad example for those watching us.

To truly “have it all,” we need to break this rule. We can’t keep perpetuating the myth that we must do everything ourselves. And the good news? The rule never existed in the first place. We just believed it did because we saw others following it. Let’s break this rule together.

If this resonates with you, I invite you to check out what we’re building in Bold. Visit brilliant-balance.com/bold for more information.

Until next time, let’s be brilliant.