This is the story of Nargis Bakhshieva — a journey of love, motherhood, and finding balance between family life and ambition. In this heartfelt and inspiring narrative, she shares the joys and challenges of her daily life—from the morning chaos with her children to building a thriving business. Nargiz reflects on how she learned to embrace imperfection, prioritize self-care, and find beauty in the messy moments. It’s a story of love as the anchor in life’s storms and the importance of being present, whether in the laughter of a child or the pride in watching her older children chase their dreams.
Every morning, as the first light of day peeks through my curtains, I take a deep breath before the world stirs awake. The toddler’s voice soon calls out, demanding breakfast in a tone that could rival an alarm clock. My 10-year-old, halfway dressed, is rummaging through the laundry pile for that “perfect” missing sock, while my phone buzzes insistently with the day’s first emails. The kitchen smells of toast and coffee, and the air is alive with the soundtrack of a family getting ready for another day.
This is my life—a beautiful, chaotic juggling act of motherhood and entrepreneurship. It’s not perfect, and it’s certainly not easy, but it’s mine.
For a long time, I thought I had to have it all figured out. To be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, and the perfect business owner. But life has a way of teaching you that perfection isn’t the goal—presence is. This story isn’t about doing it all. It’s about doing what matters, fueled by love for my family, my work, and myself.
My family is the heart of my story, the anchor in my stormy seas.
My 19-year-old daughter is standing on the brink of adulthood, and it’s a strange mix of pride and bittersweetness to watch her grow. She’s juggling school and work, carving out her own space in the world, and I can see pieces of myself in her determination. But every now and then, I catch her laughing a certain way or asking me to braid her hair, and I see the little girl she used to be, clinging to my hand at the park.
One night, as I sat hunched over my laptop reviewing yet another proposal, she quietly walked over, wrapped her arms around me, and said, “Mom, you’re my role model.” I remember my breath catching in my throat. At that moment, the exhaustion melted away. I realized that it’s not just about the success I’m building—it’s about the example I’m setting for her, for all of them.
My 16-year-old son, on the other hand, is my firecracker. His world revolves around sports, and he’s the kind of kid who refuses to settle for second place. I’ve spent countless afternoons on the sidelines, screaming his name until I’m hoarse, and watching his face light up when he achieves something he’s worked so hard for.
Once, after a long practice that left him dripping with sweat and frustration, he looked at me and said, “You know, Mom, hard work doesn’t always feel good, but it’s worth it.” He didn’t realize it, but those words hit me right in the heart. I carried them with me through moments when my business felt overwhelming or when I questioned if I was doing enough.
My 10-year-old daughter is my dreamer, my reminder to slow down. She’ll tug at my sleeve to show me a drawing or point out the “strawberry milkshake” sky outside, pulling me out of my to-do list and back into the magic of the moment.
And then, there’s my two-year-old, my little burst of energy. She’s the one who makes me laugh when I feel like crying and keeps me grounded with her endless curiosity. The way she calls out for me with her little voice or dances in circles around the living room can light up even the heaviest of days.
Of course, she’s also the one who’s managed to smear peanut butter on my work laptop more times than I’d like to admit. And bedtime? That’s her stage for an encore performance. “One more story, Mama,” she’ll say, holding up a tiny finger with a mischievous grin. Even when I’m exhausted, I can’t help but laugh and pull her close.
But being a mother isn’t my only role, and that’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way.
For years, I thought putting myself first was selfish. I believed that every ounce of my energy had to go toward my family or my business. But burnout doesn’t ask for permission—it just arrives.
I remember one particularly difficult day. A last-minute client issue had thrown my schedule into chaos, the baby was sick, and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As I sat in my car, overwhelmed and teary-eyed, I realized I couldn’t keep running on empty. That moment changed me. I began to understand that caring for myself wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity.
It’s not about being everything to everyone—it’s about showing up as your best self.
My business isn’t just a source of income; it’s a testament to my dreams. Building it from the ground up wasn’t easy. There were sleepless nights, tough decisions, and moments where I questioned if I could keep going. But every time I doubted myself, I thought about my kids. I thought about the legacy I was creating for them—not just in financial terms but in showing them what’s possible when you believe in yourself.
One day, my daughter told me, “Mom, when I grow up, I want to be like you.” Those words are more valuable than any milestone I’ve ever reached in my business.
What keeps me grounded is love. Love for my family, who are my greatest source of strength. Love for my work, which fuels my creativity and passion. And love for myself, because I’ve learned that I can’t pour from an empty cup.
To every woman reading this, I want you to know: You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to “do it all.” Start where you are, take one small step, and trust that it’s enough.
Some days, the chaos feels overwhelming. The emails pile up, the laundry overflows, and dinner is whatever I can throw together in 15 minutes. But even in the midst of it all, there’s meaning. When I see my son push himself harder at practice or watch my daughters chase their dreams, I’m reminded of why I started this journey.
Life is messy, but it’s also beautiful.
Every morning, when the sun rises and the world pulls me into another busy day, I choose to keep going. Not because I have to, but because I want to. For them. For me. For the love that ties it all together.