Years ago, when my children were very young, I attended an extended education seminar at the University of Washington to learn about corporate board governance. One of the lecturers was a founder of a venture fund, and a woman I deeply admire. She was successful, poised, self-assured. If there was anyone who could impart wisdom and knowledge to the rising female leaders in the room, help guide us to our respectful paths, she was the one.

Then she said something I will never forget: “I felt like I was never good enough. I was either doing a great job at work and failing as a parent, or I was showing up for my family and feeling like a failure at work.” Long story short — she left the workforce for an extended period to raise her kids and was able to restart her career later, bigger, and better. Knowing this woman, I’m sure she was doing just fine, even great, at work. And I have seen that she’s a wonderful mother. I found myself envying her for having the financial security that allowed her to step back from work. I also felt like I must be doomed to mediocrity in both motherhood and business.

At the time I was running a growing restaurant group alongside my then-husband and co-founder. We had two kids under the age of 4. Life was chaotic, and stepping out of the workforce wasn’t a financial option, nor one that would have crossed my mind.

Growing up in rural Oregon, everyone’s parents worked, and I was partially raised by my great-grandmother, who survived the Depression. I got my first job under the table at age 14. I paid my way through college waiting tables. I was a business owner and lucky enough to afford amazing child care, but that didn’t stop me from feeling pulled in two directions — work and motherhood.

This story isn’t at all unique to me. Women around the world (or at least around the United States) have been struggling with this dichotomy for decades. And roughly eight years later, now divorced, remarried, and running another hospitality company that I dearly love, I reject the idea that I’m automatically failing at any one aspect of my life simply because another aspect exists.

Like any parent, I worry daily about how my kids are growing up. Are they adjusting to family changes? How do I ensure that we’re raising good men? Not to mention the laundry list of dangers and threats in the world. Like many women in their 40s, I’m still striving for the peak of my career. I weigh and analyze decisions I make for work, how I show up as a leader, and where I contribute to my community.

What I’ve realized is that we’re all just doing our best in this messy world. Some days I know I have kicked ass at work and home. Some days I’m pretty sure I sucked at both. Some days I am doing better in one role or the other. And because my experience is not unique, I share my wins, excitement, trepidation, and all variety of emotions with an amazing group of friends in the exact same boat.

We’re all doing our best, and that is good enough.