Fourteen Years, Countless Lessons
There are moments in your career that imprint themselves so deeply, they shape how you lead, collaborate, and even see yourself. My fourteen years in consulting at one firm, from consultant to President, were exactly that kind of chapter. I’ve distilled those years into three big lessons that have shaped not just my career, but my perspective on what real growth looks like.
Lesson 1: Say “yes” before you think you’re ready
If I could offer one piece of advice to anyone, it would be this: say yes to the challenge, even if you have no idea how you’ll pull it off. Early in my career, I was handed a project researching the use of MRI imaging products. I had zero background in imaging: no network, no roadmap, and no playbook.
So, I started dialing. I called hospitals, learned through trial and error, and quickly developed what I jokingly called my “research hook”, a way to get people on the phone and talking. What started as an intimidating project turned into one of my most successful early consulting experiences. The insights were valuable, my hit rate was high, and I’d proven to myself (and my team) that I could figure it out.
That experience taught me something I’ve carried ever since: competence is built by curiosity and persistence, not comfort. When you take on what feels impossible, you train yourself and the people around you to view you as someone who will find a way. Research supports this too; Harvard Business Review has pointed out that employees who stretch beyond their defined roles often accelerate their learning curve and visibility within organizations. It builds a reputation not just for skill, but for grit.
Lesson 2: Build trust before you need it
The second lesson came less from doing the work and more from how I worked with others. Over the years, my colleagues evolved into my team, literally. People I once partnered with as peers later reported to me. It’s a rare full-circle moment that taught me profoundly about trust.
In consulting, every engagement runs on credibility. I built mine by being willing to do the tough, often unglamorous work: building Excel Net Present Value (NPV) and deal models from scratch, double-checking analyses, pressure-testing colleagues’ hypotheses, and asking uncomfortable questions before a deliverable ever reached the client. That rigor earned trust not just from clients but from my peers. They knew I would be honest, direct, and invested in getting to the right answer, not necessarily the easy one.
One moment that stands out was when a colleague poured a tremendous amount of time into a project for a pre-clinical company. The work was comprehensive, polished…and far beyond what the client needed or could afford. It was a difficult conversation, but I pushed us to reassess: was this insight commensurate with the company’s stage and resources? Were we over engineering it?
That exchange was tough but necessary. It reinforced that accountability isn’t about criticism, it is about stewardship. Our job as consultants is to deliver value aligned to the client’s stage, not perfection for perfection’s sake. That mindset of trust and accountability followed me into leadership and became, I think, one of the reasons I earned it when the time came.
Lesson 3: Know your worth before someone else defines it
This last lesson is the hardest, but also the most important. Across fourteen years, I poured myself into the work, the people, and the mission. But looking back, I realize there were moments I did not advocate for myself with the same tenacity that I did for my colleagues, clients, or company.
Especially as we advance, it is easy to blur the line between loyalty and self-neglect. I trusted that mutual respect and past understanding were enough, and in some ways, it was, until it wasn’t. I signed agreements early in my career that no longer fit the senior position I ultimately held. I did not push to renegotiate compensation or update my non-compete terms when market dynamics and my role had clearly changed. In hindsight, I should have had those conversations sooner, and perhaps even engaged counsel. I have learned that trust can hold steady for years, but when fear or insecurity takes root, it can quietly alter how people show up for one another.
This is not about regret, it is about recognizing that knowing your worth is not transactional; it is strategic. It ensures your value is interpreted and protected appropriately before you are in a position where it can be questioned. In today’s world, where mobility is the norm and companies evolve faster than ever, this lesson rings even louder. Self-advocacy is not a sign of ego; it is a sign of self-awareness and self-preservation.
Closing thought
Looking back, those fourteen years were transformative. I learned how to take on what I did not know, how to lead by earning trust, and how to protect my own professional value. Each phase required a different kind of courage; intellectual, interpersonal, and internal.
Careers are not ladders; they are portfolios of choices, risks, and reflections. The key is knowing when to stretch, when to steady, and when to stand up for yourself. And if just one of those choices helps someone reading this take on something that scares them, invest in their relationships, or confidently assert their value, then the lessons will have been worth it.