Having it all: Why I stopped believing

First, we had a tonne of modern conveniences: no need to haul water from a well, or go down to a river to wash clothes. We also had an education, which meant that now we could not be kept chained to the home, looking after a soccer team-full of kids (reserves included), while our brains withered to the size of a pea.

Our generation was the one with choices. Across the globe, women had campaigned for our rights, they had fought their way out of the bedrooms into the boardrooms. And we, the younger ones, who had done nothing except be born later, would reap the rewards.

We were the ones who would have it all: careers, families, power, money and choices. And as we were growing up, things were beginning to happen. Prominent female names were cropping up: Margaret Thatcher, Benazir Bhutto and Aung San Suu Kyi. Women were getting into careers and big bucks previously accessible to men only: finance, medicine, banking and politics.

The world would be ours to conquer, because if we did not, someone else would, and we would be the fools, left standing there in the dust. But as long as we got the formula right, if we were smart enough, pretty enough, it would all fall into place: the money, property, wheels, a successful, attractive spouse, and children who get straight As and pick up some sports and music trophies along the way.

The "you-girls-are-so-lucky" conversation took place in 1982. It is now 1995. I am still waiting to meet women who have it all -- and have kept their sanity while they were at it.

Instead, I see people who have become victims of the "having-it-all" myth. Many of the extremely successful women I know have marriages that have ended up in shreds. Or they have become basket cases trying to be supermum, superwife, super-boss and super-employee wrapped in one trim, aerobicised, designer-clad package.

Even in the United States, which is far ahead of many other countries in terms of how far women have gone, some people are still more equal than others. Late last year, the Los Angeles Times ran a feature on women, now in their late 30s and 40s, who put off having children and are now finding out that no amount of IVF programmes can help -- and they are regretting their decisions to put career first.

More recently, an American federal commission found, in a survey, that women and minorities were still prevented from reaching top management in the US. Called the Glass Ceiling Commission, it found that women earned far less than men of the same educational level.

"See?" I hear some men saying: "I told you so. So much for feminism and equality. Things were better when everybody knew his or her place."

But wait. Having it all may come a lot more easily for men, especially if they have had women picking up after them at home, but it's not as if they have been let off scot-free either.

I see men, more than women, twisting themselves into knots trying to please their bosses, who in turn are busy trying to curry favour with their own superiors: the big bosses who are so busy watching their backs that the only time they acknowledge their underlings is when they have a reprimand to hand out.

And then, these men go home to relationships that have probably seen better days and to children who seem like strangers because they don't know what to say to them beyond "Have you done your homework? How much do I have to pay your tutor/piano teacher/tennis coach this month?"

I see people getting ulcers as down-payment for their cars, flats and super-kids. Things are only going to get more difficult for the men as women play less and less of a supportive role and expect more of a partnership from their husbands. And until we all come to a compromise about what our roles should be, things are going to be one big mess.

Here are some other problems with believing your have to have it all. For starters, it is never enough. Someone else will always have the better job, more successful spouse, brighter kids. And you get so stressed out trying to compete, you lose all perspective and you are never happy with what you have already worked so hard for.

You start thinking of others, and of yourself, as products -- or, at the very least, trophies to be collected. I once came across this guy who wanted me to set him up with a friend of mine.

He said: "I've got the five Cs: cash, credit card, condo, country- club membership and car. She'd really miss out if she didn't at least meet me." Yup, he had it all, all right, including an ego bigger than Siberia.

Here is why I do not expect to be able to go all out in my career and have a family and keep my wits around me at the same time: Something always have to give.

I have seen my older friends pull 12-, 15-hour days, rush home to spend a bit of time with the kids, feel guilty about not being home enough and then giving in to the children's every whim and fancy to make up for their absence. I have also seen them penalised at their workplaces because the bosses feel they are not as dedicated as the men, so they are left behind when promotions come because, let's face it, the corporate world is far from women-friendly.

If you want everything, something always end up half-baked. And I would rather give a small number of things a lot of my attention, and do those things well, than get grayed at the edges trying to please everyone.

I would not trade the advances women have made for anything in the world, but I also believe that having it all is not possible -- yet. Priorities still have to be set, and unfortunately, we still have to give up certain things.

For some of my friends with young children, it has meant letting go of the fast track, finding something with less money and more flexibility, or starting a small business.

On the other end are people who have put everything non-work- related to be backburner, so they can become partners in their law firms, management consultancies or vice-presidents of huge, international banks. Either way, both have paid a price.

At the end of the day, I would like to learn from those who have had to make those decisions. I would like to be able to strike a balance, find a pace I am happy with, and not what others set for me.

It means running my own life, and not allowing life to run me.