Balance isn’t what you think it is
Finding alignment through motion, not stillness—a single mother's honest reflection on what balance really means.
Balance Isn’t What You Think It Is
By Alicia Calhoun
Balance gets talked about like it’s something you eventually achieve.
A destination. A perfect rhythm.
But for me, balance has never felt like stillness.
It’s felt like motion. Adjustment. Recalibration—sometimes daily.
And if I’m being honest, this is the area of my life that still feels the most unbalanced.
Not because I don’t try,
but because I care deeply about everything I carry.
As a single mom, balance doesn’t come with quiet mornings or perfectly structured days.
It comes with choices.
Constant ones.
What gets my time.
What gets my energy.
What has to wait.
And sometimes… it means getting it wrong.
I’ve worked for as long as I can remember.
Before titles. Before recognition.
Babysitting.
Sonic Drive-In.
Baskin-Robbins.
And here’s the part people don’t always expect—
I was proud of those jobs.
Not because of the paycheck, but because of the people.
At Sonic, I was a carhop. Fast. Efficient. Always moving.
But there was one customer who changed my pace.
His name was Mr. C.
He drove a small red car and ordered the same thing every time—a Route 44 Diet Coke.
And no matter how busy I was, when I saw that car pull in, I paused.
Not because I had time.
But because he made it matter.
He would ask about school.
How I was feeling.
He saw me—not just the girl delivering drinks on skates.
Looking back now, I realize something I didn’t have words for then:
Balance isn’t always something you create.
Sometimes, it’s something someone gives you—even if only for a moment.
When I was younger, I thought balance meant everything had to feel even.
Equal. Managed. Controlled.
But life doesn’t work that way.
Balance isn’t about perfection.
It’s about awareness.
Knowing when to push.
Knowing when to pause.
Understanding that motion doesn’t mean chaos—
and stillness doesn’t always mean peace.
For me, balance isn’t just found between work and home.
It shows up in the quiet places.
In writing.
In live music.
In karaoke nights with my best friend—who also happens to be my brother.
It shows up in laughter.
In connection.
In moments where nothing is being achieved…
but everything is being felt.
And balance?
It also lives in the women who came before us.
The ones who carried more than they should have.
The ones who didn’t have the language for “balance,”
but lived it anyway.
That tiny spark they held—
barely noticed at first—
It didn’t stay small.
It grew.
Into something steady.
Into something powerful.
Into something we now carry forward.
Balance isn’t a finish line.
It’s a feeling.
And when it’s right, it doesn’t pull at you.
It doesn’t create constant tension.
Because tension is resistance.
And you can’t create peace from resistance.
Real balance feels like alignment.
Not perfect.
Not static.
But honest.
Powerful by nature.
Soft by choice.
— Alicia Calhoun
