Balance starts here: The Trifecta

People often speak of “work–life balance” as if the two carry equal weight— as if each must be measured out precisely so the scale doesn’t tip. The phrase itself suggests opposition: two sides of a quintessential judgement scale, perpetually negotiating space.

I’ve learned that is not the case.

Balancing life is less like a scale and more like stacking river rocks. No matter what you add, there must be a foundation. I needed a base strong enough to support everything life brings. Only then could I thoughtfully place the next rock of importance, and the next, and so on.

Foundation

My basic foundation is something like a trifecta on the bottom layer. Many say I need to be a person of faith first, then a wife, then a mother. In my personal case—I think these three things have together created my strongest foothold. They work together to support the rest of the ‘rocks’ in my life.

As a person of faith (insert here whatever faith of your choice)—I find grounding in being able to let things be, for the sake of “whatever will be will be”. I recently just finished reading Mel Robbins’ book, Let Them. It was rather life changing for me.

Her “Let them” theory is predicated on the following:

“Releasing the grip you have on how things should go and allowing them to unfold the way they will go. You’re freeing yourself. Giving others the space and grace to live.”

More importantly, Mel follows this up as a two-fold concept. In order to invoke the true value of “Let them”, you have to “Let me” as well. She calls this the power move:

“You’re making an active, empowered choice to release control you never truly had.”

I found the latter uniquely profound—in that it couldn’t be more true. Part of my trifecta is being a person of faith. There’s just simply no controlling things you never had control over in the first place. What’s hard isn’t losing control—it’s losing the illusion of control. Read that back a few times and see if it clicks for you. It felt like I got magically snapped out of my stupor, fog, whatever you want to call it.

The other two rocks of my trifecta base is my dual identity as a wife and a mother. As much as this duality seems to be in alignment with patriarchal societal norms and primitive expectations of womanhood—it was important for me—foundationally—to not ever forget that I am indeed these two things.

Those close to me know I have a fiercely independent spirit. I value freedom, flexibility, and the ability to simply be “Just Jessy.” I’ll be honest in sharing that this fiery spirit has learned over the years to be more mindful and intentional. The roles of being a wife and a mother are not just ‘responsibilities’ or ‘duties’—they are core essentials of my identity and how I have learned to understand myself. They are facets of my foundation, of my life, that I need to be honest with and protect. They are privileges that I cannot take for granted but instead cultivate and care for with glows and grows.

Your Two-Thirds

In your case, you may be neither of these two things—but guarandamnteed (not a real word but it’s a thing I say)—you have two other critical components that make up your personal trifecta. Know what they are and respect them. By the way, as life moves forward, these two-thirds of the trifecta may change for you. You may be a student, or an independent individual of any kind—get to know what your two-thirds are.

That first one-third though, being a person of faith—even if you’re agnostic or atheist, you’re still unable to control things you never and will never have control over. That is an important one-third of your trifecta to observe.

Every part of my trifecta matters. If one of those base rocks starts to crack, the whole tower gets shaky fast.

On top of my trifecta is where everything else in life comes in. And yes, sometimes two things in life really do matter equally. Two rocks of the same size can balance together.

What doesn’t work is trying to place something heavy on top of something fragile and expecting it all to stay standing.

That’s usually where things fall apart.

Adding to the tower

Beyond my base trifecta, there are other “rocks” that belong in my tower.

Work is one of the most significant. My career in the corporate world has shaped me and taught me a great deal about who I am. It provides a stable, comfortable income that supports my family’s needs and lifestyle, so I depend on it heavily for practical reasons. I place this rock directly on top of my base trifecta because it grounds me and reinforces stability in my life.

Parenting, however, is more nuanced. I often wonder whether the trifecta-layer rock of “mother” is the same as being a “parent.” There is clear overlap, but in practice, it feels more like a Venn diagram. The foundational “mother” layer represents the emotional, non-logistical needs of my children—showing up, creating safety, tending to matters of the heart. The parenting rock I add above it embodies the chaos of daily and weekly logistics: pickups and drop-offs, soccer practices and games, taekwondo, birthday parties (kids, other kids, everyone else's), homework, school projects, and events that seem to multiply on their own.

In my current season of life as I’m writing this entry—the etceteras itemized in the above paragraph are many of the rocks I need to balance in my tower—several are similar in size. Something comparable in size is my social life. I truly believe building and maintaining strong friendships, especially in my current season, is critical. I’ll explore the power of friendships in another entry, but it’s worth saying here that navigating the phase of parenthood (and marriage too) alongside those who are living parallel lives can be incredibly empowering and vital your mental health.

This applies even if you’re a student or anyone in any phase of life. Knowing that we’re not alone and having people in your corner outside of your immediate family dynamic gives you affirmation and resilience to keep calm and carry on.

Some things, though meaningful, are more fragile and can’t be placed beneath the heavy layers of parenting. When I say fragile, I don’t necessarily mean more precious, just that they’re not built to carry additional weight of anything more substantial on top of them. My desire for solo vacations or my appreciation for moments of quiet luxury belong in my tower, but they can’t be prioritized ahead of the responsibility of being a present, dependable parent. In the same way, these pleasures must be relegated to lower priority when you’re a student or when you’re working to build financial stability. They matter—but timing, as always, matters more.