Anissa Renae Kunda on the impact that working behind the scenes at a multi-award-winning tourism family business had on her children and how they adapted to mum being at work when she was at home
In a home-based family business, the lines between work and life don’t just blur – they disappear.
The business isn’t something you leave for the day. It sits in the background of everything. Conversations drift back to it. Decisions are shaped by it. The rhythm of the household quietly bends around its needs.
Children grow up inside that environment. They hear more than we think. They notice what matters. And over time, they begin to absorb it – not just as something we do, but as part of who they are.
There is often an unspoken message: this is important, this is ours, and this is what we’ve built. Without ever saying it directly, the business becomes a kind of legacy. Something to be proud of, but also something to live up to.
I didn’t fully understand how deeply that was shaping my own children until one moment stopped me in my tracks.
Growing up inside the machine
They were arguing – loudly, emotionally, like siblings do. I was in the room, listening, letting them work it out. Then the phone rang. As I picked it up, they both went completely silent. Not because I asked them to, but instinctively. They knew the business call mattered.
As soon as I hung up, they went straight back to yelling.
It shocked me. Not because they were arguing, but because in that moment, they had shown me something I hadn’t seen before. They had learned, without being told, that the business deserved more immediate respect than each other.
I realised then that I didn’t have to ask for quiet anymore. The business had already been given that authority.
That moment stayed with me.
The unspoken legacy
It made me question what else they had absorbed. What they believed about priority, about value, about what mattered most.
Because when a business is always present, children don’t just see the work. They feel the weight of it, they learn when not to interrupt. And they understand when something is more important than the moment they’re in.
And over time, identity begins to form around that.
For some children, that becomes a natural pathway into the business. For others, it creates a quiet pressure – a sense that this is what they should care about, whether it fits them or not.
At the same time, I could see what it was doing to me.
The invisible cost
As a mother and a business partner, I had become the one who held everything together. I managed the moving parts, smoothed the edges, and anticipated the problems before they surfaced. It wasn’t something I questioned. It was simply what needed to be done.
But slowly, my identity became absorbed into all of those roles.
Not lost in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, functional one. I was valuable because I could carry it all. And the more capable I became, the more I took on.
It’s a pattern many women in family businesses will recognise.
What I began to understand is that without conscious separation, these patterns repeat. Children grow up believing that responsibility comes first, that work defines identity, and that being needed is where their value lies.
That’s not something we say out loud. But it’s something they learn.
Why stepping away matters more than we think
Stepping away for a holiday, even briefly, became important for me – not as an escape, but as a way to see clearly. Distance gave me perspective. It allowed me to notice what had become normal, and to question whether it was sustainable.
More importantly, it created space for my children to experience me differently – not just as someone managing everything, but as someone present with them.
Family businesses can be powerful. They create connection, resilience, and shared purpose.
But they also shape identity in ways that are easy to miss.
A question worth asking
The question isn’t whether we involve our children. It’s whether we give them enough space to become themselves outside of it.
Because ‘our’ legacy should never feel like something they have to carry.
It should be something they are free to choose.
This article is published today in honour of the celebration of The 2026 International Day of Families on Friday 15 May
