This morning, I reviewed Q3 enterprise contracts for Search Atlas while my three-year-old daughter Ruby built a tower of blocks beside my desk. By afternoon, we were at Paz Sanctuary, bottle-feeding a rescued lamb who’d been rejected by his mother. People see this and ask: “How do you balance it all?”
I don’t. And I never wanted to.
The word “balance” implies two opposing forces in constant tension—that time with Ruby costs my business, or time building Search Atlas costs my family. It sets up a zero-sum game where someone always loses. That framework is a trap, and I refuse to accept it.
Instead, I have integration. Some mornings, I’m negotiating acquisition terms. Some afternoons, I’m teaching Ruby how to approach a skittish rescue horse. Both require the same core skills: attention to detail, long-term thinking, and genuine care for outcomes. They don’t compete with each other—they reinforce each other.
The Timeline No One Expected
Ruby was born in 2022, right when Search Atlas was scaling from 50 to 150+ employees. We were integrating the Signal Genesys acquisition, preparing to launch OTTO SEO, and hitting inflection points that would take us from $2M to $30M in annual recurring revenue.
People expected me to step back. Some investors suggested I take a “more operational role” or “bring in professional management.” What they meant was: you can’t be a present mother and scale a company simultaneously. Pick one.
I picked both. But I didn’t do it by working 80-hour weeks or sacrificing time with Ruby. I did it by redesigning how we operated.
Building Systems That Enable Life
The systems I built so I could be present for Ruby are the same systems that enabled our hypergrowth:
Remote-first operations. When I can work from Miami, Colombia, or wherever Ruby needs to be, suddenly motherhood and scaling a business aren’t in conflict anymore. Location flexibility isn’t a perk—it’s infrastructure.
A strong leadership team. I empowered leaders to make decisions without requiring my constant input. Delegation isn’t a weakness—it’s what allows a company to scale beyond the founder’s capacity and attention.
Async-first communication. We’re not tied to specific hours or time zones. I can think deeply during Ruby’s nap time or after bedtime without missing critical conversations.
Clear processes and documentation. Search Atlas runs on systems, not heroics. When institutional knowledge is documented rather than trapped in someone’s head, the company doesn’t need me to be the bottleneck.
Values-driven culture. I model what I want to see. When Ruby appears in my video calls or when I talk about sanctuary work in company all-hands, I’m showing every person at Search Atlas that having a rich, multidimensional life isn’t just tolerated—it’s valued.
The Business Case for Integration
This isn’t just about me being able to “have it all”—though I reject that framing too. “Having it all” sounds exhausting because it implies excelling at two separate, competing lives.
I’m living one integrated life where professional ambition and personal purpose reinforce each other. Building a $30M company taught me skills that make me a better mother: strategic thinking, patience under pressure, seeing systems rather than isolated problems.
Raising Ruby gave me perspective that makes me a better COO: empathy, long-term thinking, understanding what actually matters.
And Search Atlas is stronger because of this integration:
- Better retention. Our team sees that multidimensional life is modeled from the top, not just promised in the handbook.
- Stronger culture. We built a values-driven company rather than defaulting to hustle culture that burns people out.
- Better decision-making. Parenthood gives you perspective on risk, timing, and what’s worth fighting for.
- Operational excellence. The systems that enable my life enable our entire distributed team of 250+ employees.
What Had to Change
Integration requires constant negotiation and deliberate choices. I protect my time ruthlessly:
- Time blocking that honors both work and family
- Clear boundaries around “deep work” versus “available time”
- Saying no to meetings that don’t require my specific input
- Refusing the always-on culture that treats constant availability as commitment
Some days are messy. Some weeks the balance tips too far toward work or too far toward family. That’s not a failure of the model—that’s life. The difference is I’m not pretending I have to choose one or the other.
The Judgment You Can’t Escape
Some investors see the animal sanctuary and assume I’m not serious about business. Some people see my COO role and judge how I parent. You can’t win everyone’s approval.
So I stopped trying.
I built the life I wanted—one where $30M in revenue and bottle-feeding rescued lambs can coexist—and let the results speak for themselves. Search Atlas hit every growth target. Ruby is thriving. The sanctuary now houses 28 animals across two countries. Not balance. Integration.
The Question No One Asks Men
Here’s what frustrates me: “How do you do it all?” is a question reserved for women. No one asks male CEOs how they manage to run companies while also being fathers. Their presence at home is assumed compatible with professional ambition.
The real question isn’t how I “do it all.” It’s why we accept operational systems that force women to choose between career growth and being present parents.
The “you can’t have it all” narrative persists because most companies have broken operational systems that require physical presence, constant availability, and face time. Fix the systems, and suddenly “having it all” becomes possible.
What I’m Not Saying
I have advantages many working mothers don’t: financial resources, a supportive partner, control over my own company. This model isn’t universally replicable in its specifics.
But the principles are: Build systems. Set boundaries. Refuse false choices. Demand flexibility. Fight for infrastructure that enables integration rather than forcing competition between work and life.
Every working mother deserves companies that operate this way. Not as a favor. As standard.
What Ruby Sees
Ruby is three. She sees her mother building something meaningful professionally while also being present for bedtime stories, playground afternoons, and teaching her how to care for animals who need help.
She’s learning that women can be ambitious and nurturing, that professional excellence and personal purpose can coexist, that you don’t have to diminish one part of yourself to honor another.
That’s the example I want to set—not of perfect balance, but of integrated wholeness.
The false choice between career and motherhood isn’t inevitable. It’s a design flaw in how we’ve structured work. And design flaws can be fixed.
I’m not balancing anything. I’m living one full life, refusing to split myself in half to satisfy a framework that was broken from the start.
