A founder’s reflection on boundaries, life, and what really matters
Time is a funny thing. It stretches and shrinks depending on what we’re doing, who we’re with, and how grounded (or not) we feel. I’ve come to realise that time, more than anything else, needs to be protected. Not in a rigid, defensive way—but in a loving, conscious way.
Because if I’m not protective of my time, no one else will be. And then I don’t show up how I want to—for my daughters, my partner, my work, or even myself.
The Lines Get Blurry
Like many women, I wear a lot of hats. I’m a mother. A partner. An entrepreneur running a growing business (Sensoriam). A facilitator and corporate presenter. A friend. A woman with a deep desire to live meaningfully and leave space for joy. And like many women, I’ve felt the weight of being “everything to everyone.”
The lines between work and home, rest and productivity, dream-chasing and laundry-folding—they blur. And unless I actively create structure and clarity, I end up scattered, overwhelmed, and honestly... a little resentful.
Priorities Are Everything
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is this: when everything feels urgent, it’s because I haven’t clarified what’s truly important.
The older I get, the more anchored I am in my values. I ask myself regularly:
What matters most to me, right now?
Where do I want to place my energy this week?
What can wait? What needs to be protected?
Right now, my top priorities are:
-
Caring for me (my nervous system, my thoughts, my mornings)
-
My daughters & the relationship I have with each of them
-
My relationship with my partner
-
My inner circle of trusted friends
-
Building Sensoriam, steadily and soulfully
I Protect My Mornings
Mornings are sacred to me. There’s something about the quiet before the world wakes up, the stillness before the noise. That time belongs to me—and I guard it. I walk to the cliffs and watch the sun rise. I sip tea slowly. I leave voice messages for friends. I journal. I listen to podcasts. I read.
Not all of those things every morning, of course. But some combination, depending on how I feel. That’s my pocket of time to fill up. And when I do, I’m so much more available to others throughout the day.
This morning? I watched the sun lift over the ocean, left a long message for my best friend, and read a chapter of a new book—all before 8am. Tomorrow may look different. But I’ll still try to begin from centre.
“Do Not Disturb” Is a Love Language
I used to think I had to be constantly available to prove I cared. But actually, boundaries are care. My daughter is the one who taught me the power of “Do Not Disturb” mode on my phone. It signals: I’m here, but not right now. It creates space for presence, instead of constant urgency.
And you know what? People can wait. Most things aren’t emergencies. If it is, they’ll call twice. Otherwise—it can wait.
I Don’t Owe Immediate Replies
This was a hard one. I used to feel so guilty if I didn’t reply immediately. Emails, texts, DMs… all felt urgent, like a little emotional landmine waiting to explode if I didn’t act fast enough.
But it’s simply not true.
I now give myself permission to respond when I have the energy and focus to respond well. If I need to, I let the person know: “I’ll come back to this tomorrow,” or “I’ll respond after school pick-up.” That small clarity can make all the difference—for them and for me.
Communication Matters (And So Does Silence)
Something I’m still learning: people don’t know your boundaries unless you tell them.
I used to assume they knew I wasn’t available after 6pm because that’s dinner and family time. But unless I say it, they don’t. So I’ve gotten better at saying, kindly and clearly, “I’ll be offline then,” or “I’m not taking meetings during school pick-up.”
It’s a simple act of self-respect—and it teaches others how to respect your time too.
Letting Go of the Need to Be Everything
There are days I feel like I’m not doing anything well. The business isn’t growing fast enough. I didn’t land the pitch. I forgot to call a friend back. I snapped at my kids. I didn’t support my partner as I’d hoped. And in those moments, I want to shrink. To disappear. To just focus on me and my girls and let the rest go.
But I’ve learned to pause and breathe through it. I remind myself: I don’t have to be everything. I just have to keep showing up, honestly.
Protecting my time isn’t about building walls. It’s about creating space—for rest, for joy, for the people and work that matter most. And most of all, for the version of me I want to keep becoming.
Journal prompt (if you'd like to join me):
What’s one moment in your day that you want to protect, no matter what?
Much love,
