Balancing Career Ambition and Personal Life (My Story - Part 1)

The idea of balance isn’t about juggling every single responsibility perfectly. It’s about being flexible enough to shift your focus as needed, depending on where your energy is most needed at the moment.

A Big Sister’s Guide to Working Womanhood: The Early Journey

In today’s world, the idea of “having it all”—a thriving career, a fulfilling personal life, and time for self-care—often feels like chasing a mirage. As women, we face enormous pressure to succeed professionally while managing the demands of home and family life. But what does it really take to balance these two powerful forces without losing yourself in the process?

In this first installment of a multi-part series, I want to take you through the early stages of my life, from growing up in a town shaped by secrecy and intellect to navigating the demands of a career in medicine. These experiences laid the foundation for the lessons I’ve learned about balancing ambition with personal fulfillment, and I hope my story offers some insight into how you can chart your own path.

Growing Up in a World of Secrets and Expectations

I grew up in a unique bubble: Los Alamos, New Mexico. This town, tucked away in the mountains, was home to some of the world’s most brilliant minds—my parents included. Both were top-secret scientists at the Los Alamos National Lab, where discussing their work, even with each other, was off-limits. Our family life was built around this atmosphere of mystery and intellectual rigor, and I quickly learned that success meant excelling at everything.

For many of us, childhood experiences shape the expectations we set for ourselves as adults. My early years were no different. I thrived in school, skipped kindergarten, and quickly established myself as one of the “smart kids.” By sixth grade, I was competing with my classmates in math, science, and everything else—constantly driven to be the best. This ambition became a defining part of who I was, but it also set the stage for the internal pressure I would later face in my career.

Ambition Meets Adolescence

One of the most pivotal relationships of my life started in those early years. Alex, a boy from my class, became my fiercest competitor in sixth grade math. At 11, I saw him as both a rival and, as adolescence hit, a first love. But just as my crush on Alex blossomed, my family’s life took a sudden turn. My dad’s decision to leave the lab and move us to Houston, Texas, shattered my familiar world.

Moving in the middle of seventh grade was a shock to the system. Everything I knew—my friends, my routine, my budding relationship with Alex—was gone. I was left to start over in a new city, a new school, and a completely different environment. Looking back, it was one of the first major disruptions in my life, teaching me that change, no matter how uncomfortable, was inevitable. The challenge was figuring out how to adapt and thrive in new circumstances.

I threw myself into academics and extracurriculars, determined to rebuild. This coping mechanism— diving headfirst into work when things felt uncertain—would become a recurring theme in my life. It’s something I think many of us can relate to: When life feels out of control, we often try to regain control by overachieving in other areas.

The College Years: Ambition and Identity

By the time I graduated high school as valedictorian, I had already learned that success wasn’t just about working hard; it was about constantly proving myself. My next step was UC Berkeley, where I chose to major in politics and journalism—much to the shock of my scientist parents. To appease them, I also took physics, calculus, and organic chemistry courses on the side, just in case medicine became my calling.

And as it turned out, that’s exactly what happened.

Two years into my college journey, I found myself gravitating toward stories that combined health and science. As much as I loved journalism, something about medicine felt more like my true calling. Fortunately, thanks to my parents’ insistence on keeping up with the science courses, I had all the prerequisites to make the switch to medical school.

What I didn’t anticipate was how demanding that path would be.

Navigating Love and Long-Distance Relationships

During my final years at Berkeley, Alex re-entered my life. We had stayed connected through brief visits, but it wasn’t until winter break, just before graduating, that we rekindled our relationship. The spark we had felt in seventh grade was still there, but now we were both different people. I was about to head off to medical school at the University of Chicago, while Alex was set to pursue a master’s program at Cambridge.

Our paths were diverging again, and maintaining a long-distance relationship during such formative years was no small feat. We were both driven, ambitious, and fully immersed in our respective careers. Still, we knew that our connection was something special, so we committed to making it work—even though we were on opposite sides of the world.

Every eight to ten weeks, we scraped together enough money for budget airline tickets, squeezing every possible moment out of our visits. At the time, it felt like we were constantly swimming upstream, trying to balance our individual ambitions with our relationship. Looking back, those years taught me the importance of partnership—not just in romantic relationships, but in all aspects of life.

The Early Career Struggle: Embracing Change

As I began medical school, it quickly became clear that my ambitions came at a cost. The long hours, the rigorous study schedules, and the emotional toll of working in hospitals took a lot out of me. At the same time, I was grappling with the loss of my mom, who passed away during my third year of medical school. Her death forced me to confront my priorities and make difficult choices about where to invest my time and energy.

This is where the concept of balance first began to take shape in my mind—though I didn’t have a clear name for it yet. I was learning, often painfully, that you can’t give 100% to everything all the time. Something always has to give. The key is learning what to give and when.

For me, that meant making sure that, while I was pursuing my career, I also made time for the people and experiences that brought me joy. It meant being intentional about my time with Alex, even when it meant staying up late for long phone calls. It meant prioritizing my mental and emotional health after my mom’s death, even when the pressure to perform at school was overwhelming.

The Takeaway: You Can’t Do It All—And That’s Okay

The early years of my journey were marked by ambition, competition, and the constant feeling that I needed to “have it all” all at once. But what I’ve learned is that the idea of balance isn’t about juggling every single responsibility perfectly. It’s about being flexible enough to shift your focus as needed, depending on where your energy is most needed at the moment.

In this first part of the series, I want you to remember that it’s okay to adapt, to change course, and to let some things go in order to prioritize what truly matters to you. Whether it’s a long-distance relationship, a career shift, or navigating loss, you can find balance by being intentional with your choices—and giving yourself the grace to know that you don’t have to do it all.

Stay tuned for Part 2, where we’ll dive into the power of relationships and support systems, and how they can make all the difference in your journey to a fulfilling life.