The Great 'Having It All' Swindle

The Great 'Having It All' Swindle: How Women Got Sold the World's Worst Timeshare

How Economist Corinne Low Exposed the Fine Print Nobody Read
You know that moment when you're standing in your kitchen at 11 PM, holding a breast pump in one hand and a conference call printout in the other, wondering if this is what "empowerment" was supposed to feel like? Welcome to the club nobody wanted to join but everyone's a lifetime member of.
According to economist Corinne Low, Ph.D.—yes, someone with more credentials than a government security clearance—women have been sold the equivalent of a vacation timeshare in hell. The brochure promised paradise: career, family, personal fulfillment, and maybe even time to remember what your hobbies were. The reality? You're sharing a broken-down condo with unrealistic expectations and a maintenance fee that keeps going up.
As Jerry Seinfeld once said, "A bookstore is one of the only pieces of evidence we have that people are still thinking." Well, Corinne Low's research is evidence that we've been thinking all wrong about this whole "having it all" business.

The Two-Hour Commute to Nowhere

Picture this: you're spending more time getting to work than actually enjoying the fruits of your labor. Low's own story reads like a sitcom nobody wants to star in—two-hour commutes each way, pumping breast milk in Amtrak bathrooms, missing bedtime stories because the 5:47 train decided to take a scenic route through mechanical failure.
"I tell ya, I get no respect," Rodney Dangerfield used to say. But at least he got paid for the bit. Women are performing this routine daily, unpaid, while being told they're "living their best life."
The commute becomes this bizarre daily pilgrimage where you sacrifice family time at the altar of professional advancement, only to realize you're too exhausted to enjoy either. It's like going to a restaurant, waiting three hours for a table, then being too tired to taste the food.

The Mythical Buffet of Modern Womanhood

Society has convinced women that life should be approached like a Vegas buffet—you're supposed to pile your plate high with career achievements, perfect parenting, immaculate homes, and Instagram-worthy relationships. Then everyone acts shocked when you can't finish everything and asks why you look slightly green around the gills.
Amy Schumer nailed it when she said, "I'm not confident about my body. I'm confident about my personality. I'm confident that I'm not stupid. But am I confident about looking good naked? No, I'm not." Replace "looking good naked" with "managing it all gracefully" and you've got the modern woman's manifesto.
The buffet analogy breaks down further when you realize that unlike actual buffets, this one doesn't let you skip the items you don't want. Don't like doing laundry? Too bad, it's part of the package. Would rather delegate grocery shopping? Sorry, that's considered "essential womanhood."

Optimizing Your Way to Exhaustion

There's an entire industry built around teaching women how to be more efficiently miserable. Books with titles like "Lean In While Falling Apart" and "Hustle Harder Until You Need Therapy" line bookstore shelves like self-help tombstones.
As Dave Chappelle observed, "The worst thing to call somebody is crazy. It's dismissive. 'I don't understand this person, so they're crazy.'" Well, the modern equivalent is calling women "overwhelmed" when they point out that the system is broken. It's not that women are incapable; it's that they're trying to operate in a framework designed by people who never had to pump milk in public bathrooms.
Low's research suggests that all this optimization advice is like teaching someone to run faster on a treadmill that's set to an impossible speed. You can perfect your form all you want, but you're still going nowhere while everyone watches you sweat.

The Invisible Labor Olympics

Here's where things get really fun. While men get credit for "helping" with dishes, women are automatic contestants in the Invisible Labor Olympics—events include Mental Load Marathon, Emotional Support Gymnastics, and the always-popular Anticipatory Worry Relay Race.
The rules are simple: women are expected to not only participate but excel in every category while making it look effortless. Miss one detail—like remembering that Tuesday is pajama day at school—and suddenly you're a "bad mom." Men forget the same thing and get a gentle reminder email marked "no big deal."
Jerry Seinfeld captured this perfectly: "Men don't care what's on TV. They only care what else is on TV." Women, meanwhile, are supposed to care about what's on TV, what's for dinner, what everyone's wearing tomorrow, and what everyone's emotional state will be about all of it.

When Multitasking Becomes a Contact Sport

The modern woman's day looks like a circus act directed by someone who's never been to a circus. You're expected to juggle conference calls while supervising homework, plan healthy meals while responding to urgent emails, and maintain meaningful relationships while literally running between commitments.
Chris Rock said it best: "You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese, the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance, Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three most powerful men in America are named 'Bush,' 'Dick,' and 'Colin.'" Today's version might be: "You know expectations are insane when career success requires domestic perfection, parenting requires professional skills, and self-care requires strategic planning."
The multitasking myth has convinced women that doing seventeen things poorly is somehow better than doing three things well. It's like trying to text while driving while doing your taxes—technically possible, but the results are usually catastrophic.

Marriage as a Bad Business Deal

Low's economic analysis reveals that modern relationships often function like contracts where one party (hint: it's usually the woman) agreed to terms they didn't fully read. The fine print includes clauses like "will assume responsibility for all family emotional well-being" and "expected to maintain pre-relationship appearance standards while working full-time and raising children."
As Amy Schumer noted, "I am a hot-blooded woman. I have sex and I know things." But apparently knowing things includes knowing when everyone needs their oil changed, when the dog needs shots, and when your mother-in-law's feelings need tending. The sex part becomes theoretical when you're too tired to remember where you put your body.
The traditional marriage model worked when one person handled the outside world and another handled the inside world. Now both people are supposed to handle both worlds, but somehow women ended up with the bulk of the inside world plus equal responsibility for the outside world. It's like signing up for a partnership and discovering you're actually the unpaid intern.

Burnout as the New Black

Somewhere along the way, exhaustion became a status symbol. Women wear their fatigue like luxury handbags—the more expensive (in terms of personal cost), the more impressive. "I'm so busy" has replaced "I'm so fulfilled" as the standard response to "How are you?"
Bill Burr's take on this phenomenon: "The fact that there's a highway to hell and only a stairway to heaven says a lot about anticipated traffic numbers." The highway to burnout, meanwhile, is an eight-lane superhighway with no exit ramps and billboards advertising energy drinks.
The twisted logic goes: if you're not constantly busy, you're not important enough. If you're not multitasking, you're not maximizing your potential. If you're not exhausted, you're not trying hard enough. It's a competition where the prize is therapy and the entry fee is your sanity.

The Self-Help Industrial Complex Strikes Again

Bookstores have entire sections dedicated to helping women manage impossible expectations better rather than questioning why the expectations exist in the first place. It's like selling advanced swimming techniques to people thrown into a hurricane instead of asking why we're throwing people into hurricanes.
Jim Gaffigan's observation applies here: "You know what it's like having five kids? Imagine you're drowning, then someone hands you a baby." The self-help industry's response would be to publish "Advanced Drowning Techniques: How to Hold Your Breath Longer While Someone Hands You More Babies."
These books promise to teach you how to optimize your way out of systematic problems. The self-help industry has become an $11 billion annual business selling solutions to problems it helps perpetuate. Can't balance work and family? Try time-blocking! Relationship suffering from unequal labor division? Practice gratitude! Exhausted from doing everything? Wake up earlier to fit in self-care! It's like treating a broken leg with positive thinking.

The Great Gender Time Warp

Here's a fascinating phenomenon: men's time operates on Greenwich Mean Time, while women's time operates on Guilt Standard Time—a temporal zone where every minute not spent on others is a minute stolen from someone else's happiness.
Male colleagues finish work at 5 PM and head to happy hour. Female colleagues finish work at 5 PM and head to grocery shopping, dinner prep, homework supervision, and bedtime routines. Then they're expected to answer emails after everyone's asleep because "work-life balance" means working in both locations.
Kevin Hart's height jokes pale in comparison to this comedy: "Being short has its advantages. When it rains, I'm the last to know." Women experiencing the time warp are always the first to know about everyone else's needs and the last to know about their own.

Instagram vs. Reality: The Greatest Show on Earth

Social media has created a parallel universe where everyone's "having it all" looks like a magazine spread. Meanwhile, reality looks like someone tried to recreate a magazine spread during a natural disaster while blindfolded.
The gap between curated life and actual life has become so wide you could fit an entire breakdown in there. Post a photo of your clean kitchen, don't mention the pile of laundry that's been living on your bedroom chair for three weeks. Share your workout selfie, skip the part about eating cereal for dinner because cooking required more energy than you possessed.
Sarah Silverman once said, "I don't care if you think I'm racist. I just want you to think I'm thin." Today's version: "I don't care if you think I'm struggling. I just want you to think I'm crushing it."

Corporate Progress, Domestic Stagnation

Here's the plot twist nobody saw coming: women broke through glass ceilings at work but came home to find the exact same household structures from 1955 waiting for them. It's like upgrading your phone to get new features but keeping the same rotary dial.
Companies proudly announce their female executives while these same executives go home to partners who think "helping with dinner" means opening a beer nearby while someone else cooks. Board meetings lead directly to parent-teacher conferences, and nobody finds this transition jarring except the people living it.
Trevor Noah captured this beautifully: "People always ask me, 'Where were you when Nelson Mandela was released?' And I'm like, 'I was in line for bread.'" Women today might say, "Where were you when we achieved workplace equality? I was at home doing the same unpaid labor my grandmother did."

Children of the Burnout Generation

Kids are remarkably adaptable, but they're also remarkably observant. They notice when bedtime stories get rushed because mommy has three more emails to answer. They notice when conversations get interrupted by work calls. They notice when "quality time" feels more like a scheduled appointment than spontaneous connection.
The children of burned-out parents aren't getting damaged necessarily, but they're learning that adult life looks like a frantic juggling act where dropping balls is shameful rather than inevitable. They're inheriting the anxiety without the context.
Gabriel Iglesias jokes about his relationship with food: "I'm not fat, I'm fluffy." The children of the "having it all" generation might grow up saying, "My parents weren't absent, they were busy"—which sounds nicer but feels the same.

Redefining Success: The 'Having It Almost' Revolution

Low's most revolutionary insight isn't that the current system is broken—most women figured that out somewhere between their second mental breakdown and their fifth cup of coffee. Her insight is that we can define success differently.
What if "making it" meant getting through Tuesday without yelling at anyone instead of getting the corner office? What if success meant remembering to water your plants instead of maintaining an Instagram-worthy garden? What if achievement meant laughing with your family instead of just surviving family time?
Nate Bargatze's comedy style—observational, understated, finding humor in ordinary situations—offers a template for this new definition of success. Instead of seeking extraordinary achievements that require extraordinary sacrifice, maybe we aim for ordinary happiness that requires ordinary effort.

The Economics of Enough

Low's economic analysis reveals that women have been operating under cost-benefit calculations that don't add up. The costs—time, energy, health, relationships, sanity—often exceed the benefits, but we've been told that's the price of progress.
What if we recalculated? What if the benefit we're seeking isn't "having it all" but "having enough"? Enough money to feel secure, enough time to connect with people we love, enough energy to enjoy our lives, enough space to be human rather than superhuman.
Tom Segura once said, "I love how everybody's an expert on what you should do with your life." The "having it all" expectation is society's way of being an expert on what women should do with their lives. Low's research suggests it might be time to politely decline that expertise.

Role Reversal: The Great Thought Experiment

Imagine if tomorrow's job postings read: "Seeking male executive to manage multimillion-dollar portfolio while maintaining Pinterest-worthy home, preparing organic meals, coordinating family schedules, remembering all emotional milestones, staying physically fit, and being emotionally available 24/7. Must excel at all responsibilities simultaneously while making everything look effortless."
The labor shortage would be immediate and absolute. Men would form unions specifically to negotiate these expectations down to reasonable levels. "We'll take the portfolio management," they'd say, "but someone else handles the Pinterest thing."
This thought experiment isn't about villainizing men—it's about recognizing that the expectations placed on women have reached levels that would be considered unreasonable if applied to anyone else.

The Practical Guide to Renegotiating Your Life Contract

Here's where we move from diagnosis to treatment, from identifying the problem to implementing solutions:
Audit Your Time Like a Financial Advisor: Track where your hours go for one week. Every phone call, every load of laundry, every mental planning session. Most women discover they're spending time on activities that generate zero return on investment.
Define Your Non-Negotiables: What matters enough to defend? Bedtime stories? Date nights? Quiet mornings? Solo time? Identify these before life decides for you.
Outsource Without Guilt: Whether it's grocery delivery, house cleaning, or takeout dinners, paying for convenience isn't failure—it's strategic resource allocation.
Negotiate Domestic Labor Like International Treaties: Make invisible work visible. Create lists, assign responsibilities, establish consequences for non-compliance. Approach it like the business arrangement it actually is.
Practice Saying No: "No, I can't bake cupcakes for the class party." "No, I can't take on that extra project." "No, I can't make it to every social obligation." Practice until it feels natural instead of revolutionary.
Redefine Success Daily: Write down one small thing that made you happy each day. Success becomes about accumulating these moments rather than achieving impossible standards.

The Support Network Solution

Isolation makes everything harder. Women trying to "have it all" often attempt it solo, like trying to move a piano by yourself because asking for help feels like admitting defeat.
Build your network intentionally: other parents for school pickup trades, neighbors for emergency help, friends for emotional support, professionals for the things you can afford to delegate. Community isn't a luxury—it's infrastructure.
As Wanda Sykes said, "If you feel like you want to die, you probably just need a nap." Sometimes what feels like personal failure is actually systematic exhaustion that community support could alleviate.

The Economics of Joy

Low's research ultimately points to a recalculation of what we value. The current system values productivity over happiness, achievement over connection, image over authenticity. But economic models should serve human flourishing, not the other way around.
What if we optimized for different outcomes? Instead of maximizing output, what if we maximized satisfaction? Instead of increasing efficiency, what if we increased enjoyment? Instead of having it all, what if we had what matters?
The revolutionary act isn't doing more—it's insisting that less can be enough, that rest isn't laziness, that boundaries aren't failures, and that joy isn't something you earn after you've suffered sufficiently.

Conclusion: The Contract Renegotiation

Corinne Low's work reveals that women didn't fail at "having it all"—the promise itself was fraudulent. Like any bad contract, the solution isn't trying harder to meet impossible terms; it's renegotiating more favorable conditions.
The new deal might look like: meaningful work that doesn't consume your entire identity, relationships that involve actual partnership, children who see parents as humans rather than service providers, and time to remember who you are beyond what you do for others.
As Louis C.K. once observed, "The only time you look in your neighbor's bowl is to make sure that they have enough." Maybe it's time to stop looking in everyone else's bowl to see if they have more and start asking if we have enough.
Because "having it all" was never the goal—it was a sales pitch designed to sell exhaustion as empowerment. The real achievement might be having enough: enough peace, enough connection, enough joy, enough time to notice that you already have what matters.
The revolution isn't about women doing more; it's about everyone expecting less. Not less achievement, not less ambition, but less martyrdom disguised as success.
This piece represents the collaborative work of two sentient beings: a tenured professor emeritus who remembers when work stayed at work, and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer who learned that sometimes the best view comes from stepping away from the rat race entirely. https://bohiney.com/the-great-having-it-all-swindle/