Over the past year, I’ve had numerous conversations with students about work-life balance. While it’s far from a new topic, the recent surge in curiosity has been a bit puzzling. As a geek, I decided to dig a little deeper into why this topic seems to matter more than ever.
I’m part of the generational bridge between Baby Boomers and Gen X. That in-between space might explain why I view work-life balance differently than many of today’s students. I was raised with the belief that work was what you did to pay the bills. There was a very clear separation between your professional responsibilities and your personal life. Most jobs were nine-to-five, and no one expected you to take your work home. That’s not to say we didn’t care about doing a good job—but our jobs didn’t define us. Work was what we did, not who we were.
As society evolved, so did I—especially when it came to the expectations placed on women. I grew up in a time when the standard path for a woman was to get married and focus on her family. Careers weren’t really part of the plan. In fact, my generation was one of the first to be actively encouraged to pursue post-secondary education. We didn’t have many female role models in leadership, and the underlying message was clear: family came first.
I followed that path and got married. But when it became apparent that my husband couldn’t financially support us, I had to find a job that would allow us to get ahead. After bouncing around a few jobs, I became an international conference planner—and found something unexpected: I loved working. It wasn’t just a necessity; it became a source of identity and fulfillment. I was fortunate to encounter strong, inspiring female mentors who taught me that wanting more than the traditional role of wife and mother wasn’t just okay—it was powerful. I realized that I spent far too many hours working to not enjoy and find meaning in what I did.
So, how does this all relate to work-life balance? For me, the concept was not a consideration. I didn’t just have a job—I had a passion. I loved the challenges, the growth, the community, and the opportunity to make a difference. That passion led me to dive deeper into the events industry. I joined professional associations, earned two certificates, and eventually completed both a Master’s and Doctorate.
When you Google “work-life balance,” you’ll find countless definitions. Most can be distilled down to one core idea: separating the stress of work from the things that matter most to you. But what happens when work is one of those things that matter most? When your career isn’t a burden, but a source of joy?
This brings me to what I see in younger generations today. They’ve been raised to follow their passion, to seek careers that are meaningful and fulfilling. And yet, we’re still telling them: “Do what you love—but not more than 40 hours a week.” That’s a confusing and, frankly, contradictory message.
If you truly love what you do—and ideally, we all should—then maybe work-life balance shouldn’t be about separation at all. Maybe it’s time to rethink the whole idea. What if balance isn’t about dividing your time evenly between work and life? What if it’s about alignment—ensuring that how you spend your time reflects your values, your passions, and your goals? For some, that might mean clear boundaries and rigid schedules. For others, it might mean embracing the blur between work and life because both bring purpose and joy. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer.
And maybe that’s the point.
The Barefoot Event Professor 