There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that working moms know — the kind that isn’t just tired, but tired of being tired. The kind that doesn’t go away after a good night’s sleep or a weekend where you swear you’ll “catch up.” (Spoiler: none of us are catching up. Ever.)

For years, I lived in that space — the land of doing, carrying, juggling, and trying to be the glue for everything and everyone. I wasn’t just moving through my days… I was powering the whole hamster wheel for my family, my job, and every responsibility that whispered “you should” or “you have to.”

And for a long time, I had no idea that I was even doing it.

Until one afternoon — around 3pm — everything changed.

Not in a dramatic movie-scene way.
But in a quiet, humbling, deeply honest way.

The 3pm Crash That Told the Truth Before I Was Ready To

Every day around 3pm, like clockwork, my brain would short-circuit. I’d stare at my laptop screen, trying to will myself into productivity, but nothing was happening. My motivation flatlined. My thoughts slowed down. The only thing that felt urgent was lying down on the couch for a nap I absolutely didn’t have time for.

Still, I pushed.

Because that’s what “successful women” do, right?
We push through. We rally. We hustle harder.

Except on this one particular afternoon, as I sat there trying to draft an email that should have taken five minutes but was taking… an eternity… I had a tiny, almost-imperceptible moment of clarity:

“This is not a discipline problem…
This is an energy problem.”

It surprised me.

Because I had spent years assuming I just needed:

• a better system (time blocking, anyone?)

• a better planner (digital, printable, and everything in between)

• a better routine (morning, evening, rinse and repeat)

• or honestly… a better version of myself (my perfectionism sneaking in)

But there I was, at my desk, realizing that no amount of grit or time management was going to change the fact that my brain simply did not operate at 3pm the same way it did at 9am.

Not a flaw… but a rhythm.

A natural one.

One I had been fighting for years because the world (and maybe my own expectations) told me that productivity should look the same at all hours of the day.

But what if it doesn’t?

What if we’re allowed to work with ourselves instead of against ourselves?

This was the moment that snapped me out of my autopilot.

But the hammer that really broke the old pattern? That came next.

When I Realized I Was the Engine of the Hamster Wheel

Sometime around the same season of life, I had another realization — one that hit harder than any afternoon slump.

I was sitting at the kitchen table one evening, kids running around, dinner simmering, mental to-do list swirling like a tornado, and I felt this thought rise up:

“I am the one making the entire wheel turn.”

Not because anyone expected me to.
Not because my husband wasn’t helping.
Not because my kids demanded it.

But because I had taken on the role of the engine.

If something needed to be remembered, I remembered it.
If something needed to get done, I figured out how.
If someone needed support, I rearranged everything to make room.

I was the contingency plan.
The backup plan.
The safety net.
The operations manager of our household.
And the emotional glue holding the entire thing together.

And honestly?
I didn’t resent my family.
I didn’t resent my job.
I didn’t resent the responsibilities.

I resented that I had forgotten I was allowed to step off the wheel.

Because once you become the engine, it’s really hard to imagine anything running without you. Even if it would. Even if people would happily help. Even if nobody is asking you to be everything.

There was a quiet moment of grief in that realization.
But also a rush of something else: relief.

Because if I had stepped into the role…
Then I could also step out of it.

Maybe not all at once.
Maybe not perfectly.
But little by little, hour by hour, boundary by boundary.

Owning my hours didn’t start with a grand reorganization of my calendar.
It started with reclaiming my identity.

I wasn’t the wheel.
I wasn’t the engine.

I was a person.
A woman.
A mom.
A human being with needs, limits, rhythms, and desires.

Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that.

And remembering it changed everything.

Owning Your Hours Is About Coming Home to Yourself

When I talk to overwhelmed moms, they often think “owning your hours” means turning into some hyper-organized spreadsheet queen who schedules joy between 6:18 and 6:24am.

No.
Absolutely not.

Owning your hours isn’t rigid.
It’s not perfection.
It’s not squeezing more into the same cramped container.

It’s asking:

“What matters most?”
“What drains me unnecessarily?”
“What choices am I making by default instead of intention?”

For me, that looked like:

• Blocking lunch on my calendar at work — and actually honoring it.

• Releasing the pressure to be available 24/7.

• Letting go of things I was doing simply because I always had.

• Giving myself micro-moments of permission to be human.

Not in a grand, dramatic, “I’m changing my whole life on a Tuesday at 2pm!” kind of way.

But in small, steady, reclaiming-myself ways.

Owning your hours is less about managing time and more about managing meaning.

The Lightness That Comes From Letting Go

Over time, something unexpected happened:

Life didn’t become easier.
My calendar didn’t magically empty.
The kids didn’t suddenly become self-sufficient unicorns.

But I became lighter.

My mind had more space.
My decisions felt cleaner.
I wasn’t running on resentment or fumes.

That’s the real transformation behind all the boundary-setting and calendar-reclaiming:

You begin to live inside a life that feels like yours again.

Not a life managed by guilt, or habit, or expectations.
A life shaped intentionally by what matters most to you.

And once you experience that clarity — even for a moment — it becomes the compass that guides everything else.

Steady.
Clear.
Grounded.
Human.

So many women are living exactly where I lived:

Squeezing themselves into days that were never designed to hold this much.

Running on rhythms that don’t belong to them.

Carrying loads they never agreed to.

Feeling like the engine, the scheduler, the doer, the one who can’t drop a single ball because the whole wheel might collapse.

But what if you didn’t have to hold it all?

What if you didn’t have to push through the 3pm fog?

What if you didn’t have to be the engine?

What if — and stay with me here — you could design a life that actually supports you back?

Why I Created the Own Your Hours Group Program

I built Own Your Hours because so many women I work with are standing exactly where I once stood:

Overwhelmed.
Depleted.
Carrying the invisible load.
Trying to “do it all” while quietly falling apart on the inside.

They don’t need more productivity hacks.
They don’t need another planner.
They don’t need to become a different version of themselves.

What they need is permission.
Clarity.
Support.
A framework that helps them rediscover their own rhythms, reset their priorities, and reclaim time without guilt or burnout.

And — maybe most importantly — a community of women doing it alongside them so they don’t feel so alone in the process.

That’s what this program is built for.
Not to cram more into your life.
But to help you create breathing room inside it.

To help you shift from:

“I never have enough time…”
to
“I decide how my time works.”

Which, honestly?
Changes everything.

If You’re Feeling the Pull… Trust It

If something in this resonates — if you’re nodding along thinking, Oh… that’s me… — then consider this your sign.

Not to overhaul your life.

Not to make sweeping, dramatic changes.

Simply to begin noticing:

Where am I giving away my hours?
Where am I craving more space?
Where have I forgotten myself?

Awareness is where the shift begins.
Ownership is where the transformation happens.

And if you want support in building that transformation with intention, clarity, and a whole lot more ease…

Own Your Hours begins January 5.

Check it out if you’re ready to reclaim your time — and your energy — for good.

LEARN MORE AND JOIN HERE