Olive trees are tough. They are rooted in rocky soil, endure blistering sun, unpredictable winds, and long stretches of drought… and still, they grow. Slowly, steadily, sometimes stubbornly. Just like mothers who balance careers and motherhood with strength and strategy.

Like olive trees, mothers stretch themselves in every direction. One branch reaches toward the office, deadlines, big ideas, ambitions that don’t shrink just because bedtime stories still need reading. Another bends toward home; soccer games, heart-to-hearts, spelling tests, late-night fevers. And in the middle? A trunk thick with quiet strength, shaped by seasons of stretching and never breaking.

There’s a constant ache, though… a tug-of-war between wanting to be there for every moment, and wanting to build something for those moments. You want to show your kids what chasing dreams looks like. We want to show our daughters that having it all is possible and our sons that women are meant to be respected, revered, even for all they can accomplish… but sometimes chasing those dreams means missing the Tuesday field trip or dialing in to a meeting instead of the dinner table.

And still, like olive trees, you don’t give up. You grow slower some years, bloom brighter in others. You twist and turn and find light where you can. You give, and give, and still bear fruit, sometimes quietly, but always meaningfully.

Even when they look weathered or gnarled, olive trees are beautiful. Their twisted trunks tell stories of everything they’ve survived. And if you look closely at a working mother’s tired eyes or her laugh lines, you’ll see those same stories—of love, of sacrifice, of holding it all together with grace (and probably coffee).

Motherhood and career ambition don’t just coexist. They intertwine. They root us deeper. And like the olive tree, we might not always be blooming, but most of the time, we are thriving.