The Hardest Thing About Running My Consultancy? Managing Myself.
The unexpected lessons from overachieving that shaped how I lead, deliver, and recharge as a consultant.
Here’s something I’ve been reflecting on lately.
In the last decade of my career, I’ve consistently found myself getting promoted or handed more responsibility, usually within a year of joining a company. Not because I was the loudest or most brilliant person in the room. Definitely not because I had everything figured out.
It’s something else entirely. A pattern I’ve come to recognize in myself:
I overdo it.
Always have.
If there’s a hard problem, I’m deep in it. If a deck needs rewriting, I’m up at midnight tightening slide 37. Ok, maybe not that deep into it but hopefully you get what I mean. If something’s unclear, I’m chasing context across four different teams.
I’ve never been able to just check the box. I go all in. Every time. Consistently over the last 10 + years.
And for a while, I thought that was ambition. A drive to prove myself. But it’s more than that. It’s how I’m wired: curious, intense, and deeply invested in high-quality work.
That mindset has opened doors. Early promotions. High-trust roles. The kind of work I used to hope would land in my inbox.
But over time, I’ve also seen the cost.
Because overachievers rarely fall apart dramatically. We burn out in secret.
We keep delivering. Keep taking the calls. Keep pushing past the edge. Until one day, we can’t remember the last time we felt energized.
Since moving into consulting, I’ve had to look that pattern straight in the eye and ask: how do I keep the best parts of this trait and let go of the ones that burn me out?
Here’s what I’ve learned so far:
Stop Fighting Who You Are. Start Working With It.
Let me be clear. This isn’t me conceding to overachievement. I’m constantly working on setting better boundaries. And I could still be better at it.
But what I’ve stopped doing is trying to change how much I care.
This is just how I’m built. I don’t finish work and forget everything until morning. And I’ve learned that’s okay, as long as I manage it with intention.
What’s helped is learning how to pivot my ambition instead of trying to shut it down.
These days, when I close my laptop, I don’t just try to “relax.” I channel that drive into something else, like learning Spanish and Japanese, or trying to beat my 11-year-old daughter in chess (she wins more often than I care to admit). I also spend time doing volunteer work. It grounds me and reminds me that impact can show up in many forms, not just work.
So yes, I go hard. But I’m getting better at going hard in more than one direction.
Rest Isn't a Luxury. It's Part of the Job.
I learned this the hard way.
The way I work (focused, deep, high-intensity) requires recovery. Not as a nice-to-have, but as part of the fundamental cycle that makes everything else possible.
The ability to step back, reset, and recharge isn't optional when you operate at this level. It's foundational to sustaining long-term performance.
That's why I've become very intentional about who I work with.
I won't take on clients or roles where rest isn't respected. Where breaks feel like borrowed time. Where everything is "urgent" all the time. I know the difference between sprinting and grinding, and I don't perform well in environments that confuse the two.
Over time, I've realized that flexibility (true flexibility, not just PTO policies on paper) matters more to me than compensation. More than title. More than working on the hottest product or being at the forefront of the latest AI wave.
Give me autonomy, trust, and space to recharge, and I will always deliver at a higher level. That's my trade-off, and I choose it every time.
When Managed Well, This Trait Can Becomes a Superpower
One of the most important things I’ve learned since stepping into consulting is that my overachiever instincts, when directed with care, are a huge asset.
I'm resourceful. Relentless. Not in a loud or pushy way, but in a "I will figure this out, no matter what" kind of way”.
It's not about having all the answers. It's about having the drive to find them.
That often means getting the right people in the room, pulling context from different teams, listening more than I speak, and bringing structure to chaos. I love that process: the creative mess of solving real problems and finding a clear path forward.
Clients don't always need a guru. They need someone who will roll up their sleeves, ask the right questions, and get them unstuck. That's where I thrive. And it's why this trait, as intense as it can be, has made me better at what I do.
If This Sounds Like You
I’ve stopped trying to change how I’m wired. Instead, I build systems around my drive so it works for me, not against me.
I’ve realized that real rest and real flexibility matter more than compensation or chasing the next shiny opportunity.
I’ve learned that my ambition is a strength, but only if I protect it, manage it, and channel it into the right work.
Overachievement can burn you out completely. Or it can help you build something incredible.
The difference is how honest you're willing to be about what you actually need to thrive.