For many years, my definition of work–life balance was simple and mechanical:
eight hours of work, eight hours for family, eight hours of sleep. A perfect, evenly divided schedule. I believed that if I followed this formula, happiness and peace would naturally follow.
But reality proved otherwise.
Even when I strictly separated work from home, I often felt lost on my career. During moments when my kids were studying or playing together, I would find myself unsure of what to do—feeling ineffective, disconnected, and strangely empty. It was as if I wasn’t fully present in either domain. I lacked direction at work, yet I also felt purposeless at home.
That discomfort pushed me to rethink everything. And eventually, I realized something profound:
Work–life balance is not about splitting hours. It’s about integrating mindsets.
Bringing Life Into Work
As a quality assurance, collaboration, retrospectives, and continuous improvement are fundamental to how I operate.
One day, I asked myself: Why don’t I apply these principles at home?
When I learned about team collaboration, I started thinking about how to collaborate better with my husband and children. If my team benefits from retrospectives—reviewing strengths, weaknesses, and improvement opportunities—why couldn’t my marriage benefit from the same?
So my husband and I began having “mini retrospectives,” reflecting on what went well, what didn’t, and how we could better understand each other. And it worked.
When I learned about empowerment in teams, I realized I could empower my children too—giving them autonomy, trust, and the right level of guidance so they could grow their confidence and competence.
Even testing strategies influenced my life. Just as I refine test processes, I found ways to improve how I manage household responsibilities. You can read more about it in my blog post The Art of Testing and the Art of Keeping a Home – The Quality Craft
A family is, after all, a cross-functional team: everyone has different strengths. My husband loves cooking and is better at it than I am—so why shouldn’t he lead that “module”?
Bringing Work Into Life
This integration works both ways.
Thinking about work at home doesn’t mean endlessly chasing deadlines or cranking through tasks for the sake of output. It means reflecting, learning, and growing so I can work smarter—never harder for no purpose.
When my kids study, I don’t want to be the parent who forces them to sit at a desk while I lie on the couch scrolling through my phone. That sends the wrong message:
You have to keep learning, but I’m done growing.
Instead, I sit with them and work or study alongside them. We create a family culture of learning—everyone improving together. I keep my door open. If my kids ask about my work, I share my challenges, ideas, dreams, and even the books I’m reading. I want them to see passion, not exhaustion; purpose, not pressure.
In doing so, I become not just a supervisor of their learning, but a role model for lifelong growth.
“Life is work, work is life.”
A colleague I deeply admire once told me this.
I didn’t fully understand it at the time.
Now I do.
Work–life balance is not about time.
It’s about presence.
It’s not ticking off eight hours for work and eight for family.
It’s allowing the lessons of one domain to enrich the other.
When your mind is aligned—when you bring intention, curiosity, and passion to both work and life—everything flows with more clarity and fulfillment.
As QA professionals, we strive for continuous improvement, empathy, clarity, and collaboration.
Why wouldn’t we bring those same principles into our homes?
And why shouldn’t the love, patience, and resilience we practice in life make us better at work?
For me, that is the true meaning of work–life balance.
