The Day I Had to Choose Between the Career I’d Planned and the Family I’d Promised
The same day I received a job offer at the Transportation Research Board in Washington, D.C., my wife came home early with news: we were expecting our first child.
When I told her I was going to take the job, she looked at me and said, “You must not love me or our unborn child if you’re going to take that job in D.C.” She wasn’t being dramatic. She was telling the truth I didn’t want to hear. With a 1.5–2 hour commute each way, I wouldn’t be there.
I took the job anyway.
What followed looked impressive on paper: leaving before sunrise, returning after sunset, traveling the country, checking every box on my carefully mapped career trajectory.
And completely failing my family.
A crisis forced me to ask three simple questions—questions that changed everything. In this article, I’ll share the story that broke me open, the framework I used to redesign my life, and the practical steps I now teach business owners and professionals to create real wins at work and at home.
Because here’s what I learned: winning at work while losing at home isn’t success. It’s just expensive failure. And the biggest lie? That work and home have to compete. They don’t. When aligned properly, they amplify each other.
The Three Questions That Changed Everything
“Do you want to win at work? Do you want to win at home? Are you?”
They sound simple. They are simple. But that third question—Are you?—cuts through all the self-deception.
The first two were easy: Yes. Yes, I want both.
When I sat alone and asked, “Are you winning at home?” the honest answer was no. And that truth demanded a pivot.
What I didn’t understand yet was this: I thought winning at both meant choosing between them more carefully. The real answer was something completely different.
When Career Momentum Collided With Family Crisis
When I graduated from Virginia Tech with a Ph.D. in Civil Engineering, I had a plan: work in the private sector for 3–5 years, then the public sector for 3–5 years, then at the national level for 3–5 years—with the goal of teaching at a university and/or starting my own company. It was methodical. It was working.
The opportunity at the Transportation Research Board in Washington, D.C., seemed perfect—the logical next step. I received the job offer the same day my wife came home early with news: we were expecting our first child.
Here’s what I should have done: hit pause, recalibrate, ask what mattered most.
Here’s what I did: convinced myself I could keep both tracks moving forward. Took the job. Started commuting 1.5–2 hours each way. Doubled down.
Our first son was born. My wife stayed home. And everything my wife had warned me about came true.
I left the house before the sun came up. I got home after it went down. I was traveling for work, managing programs, building my career. My wife was home—alone—raising our son like a single parent. I wasn’t there physically. I wasn’t there emotionally.
And the pressure intensified. Now that my wife wasn’t working, I felt even more responsibility. Everything was riding on me. I had to perform. I had to provide. I had to keep climbing.
So I worked harder. I said yes to more travel. I took on more responsibility. I convinced myself this was what being a good provider looked like.
I missed my son’s first steps. I missed bedtime routines. I missed the daily moments that make up a childhood. My wife handled it all—the feedings, the diapers, the doctor’s appointments, the exhaustion, the isolation—while I was “winning” at work.
Then life hit harder.
Immediately after my wife returned to work, we learned we were expecting our second child. And this pregnancy wasn’t like the first. My wife went on bed rest. Our son was born at 26 weeks, weighing one pound, 14 ounces. At 10 days old, he stopped breathing on the operating table—and they resuscitated him. Surgeons removed over two-thirds of his intestines.
Now we had a one-year-old at home, a wife who was physically and emotionally depleted, and a premature son fighting for his life in the NICU.
I was still physically present in meetings and on planes, managing research programs. But I was not present where my family needed me most. I couldn’t be. I was spread so thin that I wasn’t fully anywhere.
That’s when the three questions became unavoidable. I was winning at work. I wasn’t winning at home. And pretending both were possible without fundamental change was a lie I could no longer afford.
What I Changed—and What Actually Worked
Let me be straight with you: the changes weren’t dramatic. I didn’t quit my job or blow up my life. I made deliberate, practical shifts:
Negotiated flexibility. My employer allowed remote work (long before it was mainstream). That single change created immediate space to be present at home.
Prioritized self-care. Sleep. Better food. Exercise. Boring? Yes. Essential? Absolutely. When your health collapses, everything else follows.
Set boundaries. A few years later, when I was offered a promotion to manage a $70-million infrastructure research program—requiring a full-time daily presence in D.C.—I said no. They pushed back: “What happened to your ambition?”
I told the truth: “I’m not going to trade being present with my family to scratch a career-ladder itch.”
Here’s what surprised me: two months later, they promoted me to lead that program anyway—without the relocation requirement.
Sticking to what matters doesn’t punish you. It often organizes your life around your values and reveals paths forward you couldn’t see before.
The Reframe That Changed Everything: Work and Home Aren’t Competing
For years, I believed work and home were in competition for a fixed pool of time and energy.
Every hour I gave to family felt like I was stealing from my career. Every late night at work felt like abandoning my family. It was a zero-sum game where someone always lost.
That belief almost destroyed me.
The breakthrough came when I redefined success entirely: work and home aren’t competitors—they’re partners. When aligned properly, they amplify each other.
Here’s what I discovered:
- Better rest at home made me sharper at work. When I stopped running on fumes, my decision-making improved. I got more done in less time because I wasn’t operating in a fog.
- Boundaries forced me to work smarter. Without endless hours, I had to delegate, automate, and focus on high-impact work. My effectiveness actually increased.
- Being present at home reduced my stress at work. When I knew my family was okay and I wasn’t missing critical moments, I could focus completely while working—no more guilt eating at me in meetings.
- Working smarter freed energy for home. The systems and delegation frameworks I built didn’t just save time—they saved mental bandwidth. I showed up at home actually present.
The secret wasn’t choosing between work and home. It was redesigning both so they supported each other instead of competing.
That shift—from either/or to both/and—unlocked everything that followed.
The Four-Step Process to Design a Life Where Work and Home Win Together
Once I understood that work and home could support each other, I needed a systematic way to redesign my life around that truth. Getting from where you are to where you want to be isn’t magic. It’s a repeatable process I teach and live:
1) Decide What Matters
Define your North Star. For me, it was being present and available for my wife and children while still contributing meaningful work. No one can define this for you. Until you do, every decision is a coin flip.
2) Visualize It
Picture what presence looks like—morning routines with your kids, being home after school, attending recitals. These small, specific images guide big choices.
My faith plays a central role here. I begin each day with quiet time, devotionals, and prayer to set my top three priorities. The Bible isn’t just a spiritual anchor—it’s a source of success principles for how to live and lead. Aligning with purpose isn’t abstract; it’s a daily conversation that guides decisions.
3) Design a Plan
Map the gap between now and your vision. You won’t close it in one leap. Build milestones. One step at a time.
4) Execute Consistently
Most people know what to do. Fewer do it. Start with a single action and build momentum.
A practical trick: if you love your work and it doesn’t feel like work, create a “knock-on-the-door” rule. Set a firm cutoff time and tell your family they’re allowed to reclaim your time when it hits.
Your Coach in Your Corner
Here’s what I want you to do this week—not next month, not when things calm down, but this week:
Sit somewhere quiet and answer three questions:
- Do you want to win at work?
- Do you want to win at home?
- Are you?
If the answer to the third question is no, pick one thing you’ll change. Not ten. One.
Leave work by 6 p.m. three days this week. Delegate one recurring task you’ve been hoarding. Block your calendar for your kid’s game and treat it like an unmovable client meeting.
Start by Friday. You don’t need enough motivation to finish everything you want to change. You simply need enough energy to start.
Because here’s the truth: momentum is built by doing, not by waiting for perfect resolve.
If you’re overwhelmed, that’s normal. Every person I coach feels that way at the beginning. The ones who win are the ones who take the first step anyway.
One small win builds into another. Then another. Before you know it, you’ve created momentum that carries you further than willpower ever could.
You can do this. I’m in your corner.
Dr. James Bryant, P.E.
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