I had a client who was a successful administrator. She had worked her way up in her organisation, and her colleagues admired her for being capable, organised and dependable. At work, people could count on her.
Yet she was struggling to find a work–life balance. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day, and she was beginning to feel the strain.
As we talked, I began to understand why.
When she got home, another day's work was waiting for her.
Cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing and managing the household fell almost entirely on her shoulders.
Her husband went to work but did little around the house. Their college-going son had also followed his father's example.
There was another complication. She had come to believe that she could not rely on either of them to do the household chores properly. It was easier and quicker to do things herself.
She was caught in a frustrating cycle. The more she took on, the more she was taken for granted.
How could she find time for herself when she seemed to be carrying the entire household?
She tried assigning specific household responsibilities to her husband and son for a week. Unfortunately, little changed. They would rather leave things undone than take responsibility for them.
Clearly, assigning chores was not going to be enough. Something else had to change.
What If… I Am Not There?
I asked her to try a simple visualisation.
"Imagine you decide to go away for an extended period to a monastery or an ashram. You are completely unavailable to the world. What do you think would happen to your husband and son?”
She paused for a moment.
"Things will go on. They will have to manage,” she said.
I let that sink in before asking another question.
"Suppose you return after a week. What do you think will happen then?”
Her answer came without hesitation.
"Things will go back to the way they were. My husband and son will put everything on my head again.”
I found that response interesting.
She knew they could manage without her. Yet she was equally certain that, once she returned, they would fall back into their old ways.
A New Approach
We decided to try a different approach. The idea was to change the circumstances and see what happened.
My client began taking work-related trips out of town. Initially, she was away for a day at a time. Gradually, these absences became longer, eventually extending beyond a week.
Her absence changed that equation. They could no longer count on her being there to put things right.
The adjustment was not immediate. There were moments of resistance, reluctant compromises and occasions when the old habits threatened to return. Things did not fall into place overnight.
But something had begun to change.
My client was beginning to question a belief she had long taken for granted: Was she as indispensable as she thought?
I do not know how the story ended.
At some point, my client chose not to discuss the matter any further. I respected her decision.
Yet the conversation left me with some unanswered questions.
Was she finding it difficult to let go of control?
Was she comfortable with the idea of her husband and son managing things differently?
Was being the person everyone depended on important to her in ways she had not yet explored?
Perhaps being indispensable gives us something that is not always easy to acknowledge. It may make us feel valued, needed or even secure in our place in someone else's life.
Could it be that, sometimes, we hold on to responsibilities not just because others expect us to, but because letting go means confronting a part of ourselves?
I do not know what the answers were for my client.
But her story left me wondering whether the burden we carry is always just about the work itself—or whether, at times, it is also about what being needed means to us.
And that brings us to a question many of us might recognise in our own lives.
The Burden We Choose to Carry
We often think of work–life balance as a time-management problem. We look for better schedules, try to become more efficient and search for ways to fit everything into an already crowded day.
But what if the problem is not simply that we have too much to do?
What if it is also about how responsibilities are shared—and why we continue to carry more than our fair share?
Think about what happens when we repeatedly step in to make sure everything gets done. Others may gradually become accustomed to stepping back.
Sometimes, we find it difficult to delegate because we believe things will not be done properly unless we do them ourselves. So we take over, often without realising that we are making it easier for others not to get involved.
In doing so, we may unintentionally reinforce the very pattern that frustrates us.
Of course, it is not always that straightforward.
Others may resist change. They may be unwilling to accept responsibility, however clearly we communicate our expectations. We cannot make people change simply because we want them to.
What we can do is make our expectations clear, set reasonable boundaries and give others the opportunity to take responsibility. Whether they choose to do so is ultimately up to them.
But our own choices are ours to examine.
Are we doing something because it genuinely needs our attention, or simply because we have always done it?
Can we allow others to learn, even if they do things differently from us?
And can we accept that not everything has to be done our way for things to work out?
These are not always easy questions, particularly when we have spent years being the dependable one—the person everyone turns to when something needs to be done.
Perhaps there is another question worth asking:
What would it mean to us if others no longer depended on us quite so much?
Would we feel relieved? Would we welcome the freedom? Or might we feel that we had somehow become less important?
There are no universal answers. Much depends on the person and the circumstances. But the questions are worth asking.
There is a difference between being dependable and believing that everything depends on us.
The first is a strength. The second can become a burden.
Making time for ourselves does not mean we care any less about others. Sometimes, it means recognising that caring for others should not require us to neglect ourselves.
Perhaps the real challenge is to understand the difference between being needed and being indispensable.
Perhaps work–life balance begins when we stop asking, "How can I manage everything?” and start asking, "Why am I carrying so much, and what am I willing to change?”
A Question to Reflect On
If you stepped away from your usual responsibilities for a week, what might others discover they could do for themselves—and what might you discover about yourself?
If this article has reminded you of a conversation you've been meaning to have with yourself or with someone you trust, don't let it end here. Sometimes a single conversation can quietly change the direction of what's next. If you'd like to continue that conversation, you can connect with me through my Mentaa profile.
