What It Means to Be a Founder and a Mother

When the Work and the Heart Both Need Holding

There are mornings when the world feels impossibly large and impossibly small at the same time.

I wake before the house stirs, the coffee begins to steam, the calendar begins to populate, and the to-do list unfolds like a never-ending road. Beneath it all, there’s the soft, stubborn pulse of love: for the business I’ve built, and for the children whose hands I hold in between emails and meetings.

To be both a founder and a mother is to live with your heart outside your body in two places at once: in the tender rhythm of family life, and in the demanding cadence of building something meaningful in the world.

Some days, those worlds cooperate, the children laugh in the background of a video call, the team lands a win, and for a moment, the horizon feels wide. Other days, the tension between those identities becomes nearly unbearable, slower than rest, faster than patience, and heavy in ways we didn’t quite anticipate.

And yet, deep in that tension, something vital begins to take shape: a truth that the business we create and the children we raise are not separate ventures, they are expressions of our capacity to love, to steward, and to bear responsibility with both strength and gentleness.

The Myth of ‘Doing It All’

For years, I chased a version of success that always felt just beyond reach, the one that promised I could do it all if I just worked harder, stayed later, or got up earlier. In the quiet of night, I would scroll through feeds filled with images of perfect breakfasts, seamless Zoom calls, and neatly tabulated wins. I could see myself in the edges of those pictures, but never fully reflected.

There’s a subtle lies hidden in perfection: it tells you you can have everything you want if you just want it enough. But motherhood teaches a different kind of truth — that some things are meant to be held loosely, that priorities can and must shift, and that presence often matters more than productivity.

In the same way, entrepreneurship, especially as a founder, demands we lean into nuance. Growth doesn’t always look like expansion. Success doesn’t always call for more. Sometimes success looks like steady, like consistent, like sustainable. It’s a hard lesson to learn when the world equates value with volume, output with worth.

That’s where support matters.

Why Support is a Foundation, Not a Filler

The early days of building Ace Partners felt like most startups: lean, hopeful, frenetic. Meetings ran back to back, ideas spilled into the margins of my notebook, and evenings were a blur of dishes and deadlines.

At first, I resisted the idea of support. I felt that needing help was an admission of weakness, that hiring someone would be a sign I wasn’t capable. But motherhood had already taught me something profound: strength isn’t doing everything yourself — strength is knowing what must be done by you, and what can be entrusted to others.

Over time, that distinction became operational.

I realized that my highest and best use, whether as a mother or a founder,  wasn’t in the minutiae, but in strategic presence: the conversations I led, the decisions I shaped, the hearts I held,  both in my family and in my business.

Operational support— assistants trained to anticipate needs, manage details, uphold systems, didn’t take work away. It gave work a place to live where it could breathe, move, and be carried without burning me out.

In the same way a mother delegates bath time or bedtime stories with the same intention as she delegates business tasks: not because the moment doesn’t matter, but because the relationship does.

Support became the margin that allowed sustainability.

What It Feels Like in the Everyday

There are mornings when I roll out of bed and see the sun just beginning to lift, and I think of how fragile life is and how quickly it can change, how easy it is to miss the beauty of an ordinary moment while chasing tomorrow’s wins.

There are afternoons when my child asks for a snack mid-email, and I pause, not with guilt but with gratitude, because these interruptions are not obstacles; they’re connections.

There are evenings when the work still hums softly in the back of my mind,  the proposals unfinished, the timelines shifting and I remind myself: the work is not the whole of life. It does not deserve the best of me if it takes the best of me away from those I love.

And yet the work I do matters. It matters to our clients, to the teams who depend on systems that run smoothly, to the leaders whose vision needs structure to thrive. It matters because it’s part of how I steward the gifts I’ve been given.

The secret isn’t balancing these worlds perfectly— it’s honoring both with intentionality.

What Intentional Support Looks Like

Intentional support isn’t the same as outsourcing your life. It’s a partnership. It’s when your assistant knows to schedule your day not just around meetings, but around energy and focus. It’s when someone manages follow-ups so your attention stays where it’s most needed. It’s when operational rhythm exists so you can be fully present during the moments— birthdays, dinners, hard conversations— that matter most.

And it’s when the business doesn’t wait, it’s built to carry on even when your focus must shift.

This is not a stopgap. It’s not a cheat. It’s structure built for endurance.

Why This Matters for Women Founders

For founder-mothers, the stakes feel personal every day. We do not get a break from love. We do not get a break from responsibility. We do not get a break from being first responders to both emotional needs and strategic decisions. Our brains are conducting symphonies of scheduling, negotiating, prioritizing, and feeling— all at once. And many of us have been taught that asking for help is a failure of some sort, that if we just try harder, we’ll somehow bridge all the gaps. But the truth is simpler and far more generous: your capacity is finite— and that’s okay.

What if the measure of success was not how much we accomplish alone, but how well we build support that amplifies our best work and protects our most precious relationships?

This isn’t just good business— it’s good stewardship of the life you’re building.

A Life Held Together, Not Pulled Apart

There are days that land in sharp edges: disagreements with team members, unexpected sick days, milestones missed, and the relentless hum of a schedule that never quite feels done.

There are also days that land in soft light: a laugh in the kitchen, a quiet walk with a child, a client call that goes better than expected.

These moments are all part of the same story.

Some days the balance feels mythic,  impossible to hold. Other days, it feels like a kind of grace, that things fit together not perfectly, but well enough to keep going with intention.

What I’ve learned is this:

• Balance isn’t a place. It’s a practice.

• Support isn’t a concession. It’s a strategy.

• Presence isn’t perfection. It’s awareness.

• Love isn’t a distraction. It’s a foundation.

And when those truths settle into the bones of a business and a family, something remarkable happens: the work doesn’t feel like a burden, and the life doesn’t feel like a sacrifice. They both become parts of a life that’s held, not pulled apart.

A Closing Thought for the Founder-Mother

If you are reading this with a full heart and a full inbox, know this: You are not meant to carry everything yourself. You are meant to lead with intention,
to choose what deserves your attention, and to build support that honors your life, not interrupts it.

You are not just a mother who runs a business. You are a steward of two of the most sacred kinds of work there are — raising humans and shaping the world. And when that work is supported well, it doesn’t just get done, it thrives.