The Voices That Keep Me Up at Night

I asked you all about work-life balance as creatives last week. The results? 93% of you are struggling. Only 7% have it figured out.

I stared at those numbers, then looked at my calendar for next year. Three weddings booked. All good couples, all decent money. Two of them will probably be fun.

The third one... I played it safe. Old habits.

When my dad died at 55, I made myself a promise: I don't want to live to work. I want to work to live. We're stuck in capitalism, I need money to pay bills, but I refuse to spend my days—my life—miserable about what I do to pay them.

That promise has been harder to keep than I thought.

In my mind, I know exactly what I want. Elopements where I can actually connect with couples. Lovers sessions that matter, not Pinterest bullshit. Intimate portraits where people step into their power. Work where I'm not pressed into someone else's timeline, where couples trust me completely.

I had that in Berlin a few weeks ago. That session mattered. I loved shooting it. Same with the Copenhagen elopement—I was genuinely excited about their story, had complete creative freedom, no social anxiety from big groups of people. Just connection and storytelling.

So why the fuck did I book three traditional weddings for next year?

The voices that keep me up at night, that's why. The ones reminding me I've got bills to pay. That change comes slowly. That maybe I should be grateful someone wants to hire me at all.

Last week I was listening to Dennis Schröder and Mo Wagner—Dennis is Germany's national team captain, Mo plays for Orlando—talking about the German mentality that's shaped their careers. Not basketball strategy, but how this culture works against you.

Dennis talked about how the negativity here is "very, very high." How Germans analyze everything to death, looking for what's wrong instead of what's possible. How he spent 11 years having to prove he deserved to take up space before anyone would listen.

Mo talked about the glass-half-empty mentality. How we're always preparing for the worst instead of building toward what we want.

And Dennis said something that hit me: "I had to know that if I didn't win gold for the German national team, things would always stay normal."

The pressure to prove you deserve more. To apologize for wanting something bigger. To play it safe until you've "earned" the right to take risks.

I'm sitting here, 14 years into shooting weddings, and I can feel my body's reaction when I think about those three bookings next year. Not excitement. Uncertainty. Hesitation. Not the fire that burns when I think about elopements or intimate work.

But the voices are louder than my intuition right now. The pandemic anxiety, the "book them, you need the money" mindset that kept me afloat when everything was falling apart.

93% of us struggling with work-life balance isn't random. It's cultural. The German mindset doesn't just make us play small—it makes us terrible at trusting ourselves. We say yes to work that pays bills but drains souls because we're grateful someone asked. We analyze instead of trusting our instincts.

I know what work lights me up. I also know what my bank account looks like. Right now, those two things are having a war in my head at 2am.

Maybe work-life balance isn't about managing time better. Maybe it's about being brave enough to trust that saying no to good work you don't love will somehow lead to great work you do.

But how do you make that leap? How do you trust that the work you want will pay the bills too? How do you quiet the voices long enough to hear what you actually need?

I don't have those answers yet. But I'm done pretending the struggle isn't real.

Here's what I want to know: What's your biggest struggle with work-life balance right now? Is it the voices telling you to play it safe? The gap between what you want and what pays? The fear that choosing your heart over your bank account is selfish?

Hit reply and tell me. I read every response, and your struggles might be the key to helping others—including me—figure this out.

Hugs,
Bjørn

For the hearts still beating—keep creating, keep pushing, keep giving a damn.