The Sandwich Life: Caring for Parents, Children & Work — Without Losing Yourself
Some mornings start with a toddler screaming for Peppa Pig, a parent calling about a missed doctor’s appointment, and a client WhatsApping for “just a quick update” before your first sip of coffee.
By 9:15 a.m., you’ve negotiated three peace treaties, scheduled a blood test, packed a snack box (with fruit, because guilt), and mentally rewritten your proposal — all while trying not to lose it over the fact that no one replaced the toilet paper roll. Again.
No one warned us adulthood would feel like starring in a personal sitcom titled “Everyone Wants Something From Me” — and you’re the only cast member.
Welcome to the sandwich life. Except this sandwich doesn’t come with a side of fries. It comes with responsibility. From both sides. All the time.
The Calendar Is Full, But Your Energy Isn’t
There comes a point when the calendar no longer reflects the weight of the week.
Where each day seems accounted for — business, family, errands — yet the feeling of being “on” never quite switches off. It’s like living with 17 browser tabs open, one of them playing music, and you don’t know which.
You’re managing growing children who need emotional presence, ageing parents who require physical support, and a work life that still demands your sharpest brain cells. Not to mention the quiet expectations in between — birthdays remembered, bills paid on time, polite smiles at the right moments.
But here’s what most people don’t see: the inner negotiation that happens every single day.
The Quiet Pressure of Being the Go-To
It’s not just the tasks — it’s the holding.
Holding space for others’ emotions while shelving your own.
Holding together family logistics with invisible precision.
Holding on to your own dreams, even if they’ve taken the backseat for now.
And the toughest bit?
No one’s really asking how you’re doing. They assume you’re fine — because you’re the one who gets things done.
When You Start Feeling Worn — But Don’t Know What to Name It
There’s a particular kind of fatigue that doesn’t look like collapse — it looks like a slow fade.
You’re not crying. You’re functioning. But joy feels distant.
You’re productive, but your body feels like it’s clenched all the time.
Even rest doesn’t feel restful anymore.
And slowly, the internal dialogue changes:
“Why am I snapping so easily?”
“I should be grateful, but why do I feel so hollow?”
“Is this just how life is now?”
This isn’t the dramatic burnout people talk about in articles — it’s a subtle depletion that gets wrapped up in words like strong, resilient, you’re so good at balancing it all.
Why This Phase Feels So Overwhelming
Because it sits at the intersection of too many roles — caregiver, entrepreneur, partner, daughter, friend, provider.
And none of those roles pause while another takes center stage.
They all want you. Now.
There’s rarely space to fall apart quietly, no proper language to describe the pull in ten directions, and certainly no reward for choosing yourself even once. That kind of choice can even bring guilt — not relief.
Especially when you’ve been raised to feel useful before feeling whole.
So What Can Actually Help?
Let’s skip the shallow advice.
No, you don’t need another scented candle or motivational quote about “balance.”
(We both know the only balance you’re doing is carrying three bags of groceries and your kid’s water bottle while answering a client call.)
What you do need is permission — to soften, to pause, to rethink how you carry all this without abandoning yourself.
Here’s where that begins:
1. Create 10-minute windows that are for nothing and no one.
Not for reading marketing tips. Not for checking emails. Just stillness. Let your nervous system catch up with your soul. You’d be surprised how regulating two deep breaths and zero agenda can be.
2. Catch yourself when you say, “It’s easier if I do it.”
Sure, it is. But over time, that convenience comes at the cost of resentment. Let others rise. Even if the dishes are stacked like Jenga.
3. Pay attention to irritation.
It’s not your personality. It’s a signal. Something in you is trying to be heard. Not to be solved — just witnessed.
4. Drop the idea that rest needs to be earned.
You don’t need to tick all the boxes before lying down. Start with a guilt-free five minutes of doing nothing. Yes, it counts.
5. Get support before it feels urgent.
Don’t wait till you’re exhausted beyond recognition. Whether it’s a coach, a circle, a journal, or a solo chai walk — create a pocket where you are allowed to exist beyond what you do for others.
You’re Allowed to Exist Outside of What You Do for Others
You’ve been doing more than enough.
And while the world may not throw you a medal for all your invisible labour, you can pause to acknowledge it.
This isn’t about stepping away from your responsibilities.
It’s about reclaiming your place in the picture.
So that you’re not just the one who holds everyone — you’re the one who gets held too.
Not because everything else has calmed down.
But because you finally chose not to abandon yourself in the name of “keeping it together.”
And that? That’s not selfish. That’s leadership. Of your own life.
If any of this feels like it’s speaking directly to you — know that you’re not alone, and you’re not crazy. You’re just in a very full chapter of life that requires a very different kind of self-care — the kind that goes deeper than spa days and to-do lists.
And if you’d like someone who gets it to walk with you while you find your way back to yourself — that’s what I help women do. Gently. Intuitively. Without needing to drop it all, or lose who they are.
Quiet power lives here. Let’s uncover yours.
