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I tried work/life balance. It tried to kill me.
Okay, dramatic—but not wrong. At the height of my burnout, I was scheduling "relaxation" into colour-coded time blocks between client calls and emergency chicken rescues. My mornings started with cortisol and ended with guilt. Every productivity guru promised balance; none delivered.
Because here's the truth: "work/life balance" is outdated, unrealistic, and low-key gaslighting us all.
Let's burn it down, shall we?
Work/life balance was born in boardrooms, not back gardens. It was the corporate world’s answer to rising burnout rates in the late 20th century—not by reducing workloads, but by repackaging them. You weren’t overworked, you just needed to "balance better."
It’s a clever lie: put the burden on individuals to fix systemic problems. Suddenly, it’s your fault you’re tired. Not capitalism. Not tech. Not the fact that your boss Slacked you during dinner again.
Spoiler: "life" in work/life balance doesn’t mean spa days and pottery classes. It often means laundry, childcare, meal prep, emotional support duties, and Googling "can chickens get seasonal depression?"
For women, femmes, and carers, balance isn’t 50/50. It’s 100/200.
No amount of yoga will fix a system that doesn’t count invisible labour.
Real balance doesn’t mean equal parts hustle and rest every day. It means having the freedom to shift gears when your brain, body, or chickens demand it. Some weeks are for planting. Some are for pruning. Some are for sobbing in the greenhouse.
Balance should flex. Not snap.
You don't need another productivity app. You need boundaries. And the courage to say, "No, I will not attend a Zoom meeting titled 'Circle Back Synergy.'"
Say no to what drains you—and yes to naps, hobbies with no monetization potential, and walking in circles around your garden like a feral oracle.
If you’re aggressively scrubbing baseboards at 1am because it’s the only time no one needs something from you, congratulations: you’re not balanced, you’re clinging to control.
If the highlight of your week is not working, your job might be eating you alive. Work/life balance shouldn’t mean limping through five days to survive two.
You don’t need a Bali retreat. You need 10 minutes alone with your coffee and your compost bin. Build tiny, sacred rituals that remind your nervous system it’s safe to exhale.
Rest isn't earned. It's essential.
Block off recharge time in your calendar like it's a vet appointment. No one needs to know you're using it to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Your burnout doesn't care how you frame it. It just wants you to stop.
Look at your commitments. Ask: does this feed me, my animals, or my joy?
If not? Delete, delegate, or ghost.
Hard boundaries protect soft humans. Set up guardrails: no emails after 6pm, no doomscrolling in bed, no saying yes because you feel bad.
Build routines around your energy, not the clock. Stack your day like a lasagna: start with intention, layer in joy, and top it with something saucy.
Balance isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s messy, seasonal, and sometimes smells like chicken poop.
Make it yours. Even if it looks unhinged on Instagram.
Work/life balance is dead.
Burnout is the body’s way of screaming, "This system is unsustainable."
You don’t need more hacks. You need permission to reclaim your damn life.
Give it to yourself. Today.

Zia Paola
Zia Paola is a burnout survivor, chicken enthusiast, and former veterinary surgeon turned digital mischief-maker. She writes from her semi-chaotic smallholding in the UK, where she splits her time between unhinged chickens, rustic recipes, and helping others reclaim their lives from hustle culture. You can find her ranting lovingly about slow living, food, and freelance freedom at www.badinfluenzia.com.

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