Picture this: You're at a networking event (I know, I know), and someone asks the dreaded question: "So what do you do?"

And you just... freeze.

Not because you don't have a job. But because you literally have no idea who you are without one.

Lol, if this isn't the most consultant thing ever.

Last week I stumbled across this gut-punch of a post on Fishbowl where a consultant wrote: "Been in consulting for all of my career and now doing my last project. I was a road warrior all my life and ended up marrying too late for children - so missed a key part of life."

The responses absolutely wrecked me. One person said: "I can definitively say it wasn't worth it for me. I missed a lot of time when my oldest kids were little, incurred a lot of unnecessary marital strife, and spent my 20s and early 30s way over-fixated on a career."

But here's what hit different: these weren't people complaining about micromanaging partners or brutal client deadlines. They were mourning entire versions of themselves they'd never gotten to meet.

Here's the thing nobody warned us about in those glossy MBB recruiting presentations: consulting doesn't just become what you do. It becomes who you are.

And honestly? The firms knew exactly what they were doing.

Think about it. From day one, they told us we were "special." Elite talent. Top 1%. The chosen ones who could handle impossible client requests and still smile during the third deck revision at 11 PM. We got shiny business cards, first-class flights, and dinner reservations that made our non-consulting friends lowkey jealous.

According to career transition research, "High performers often tie self-worth to their work. Consulting firms reinforce this by making people feel special—top talent, elite, valuable because they're there."

We started introducing ourselves as "I'm at McKinsey" instead of "I work at McKinsey." Seems like a tiny difference, right? Massive psychological impact.

The badge became the identity. The PowerPoint wizardry became the personality. The client fire drills became the calendar that defined our entire sense of worth.

Cool cool cool. Nothing toxic about that at all.

I've walked hundreds of consultants through their exits, and the pattern is always the same. It's not just about finding a new job. It's about finding a completely new version of yourself.

One former BCG consultant told me: "Honestly, it felt like I was breaking up with myself. Not just leaving a company, but leaving the version of me that felt important for the first time in my life."

Oof. That one still gives me chills.

Here's what makes consulting identity crisis especially brutal:

Everything was external validation.

Those performance ratings, those early promotions, those client thank-you emails that made you screenshot and send to your mom. We lived for them. Without them, who's gonna prove we're actually smart anymore?

The community disappears overnight.

Your work friends were your only friends. Your work calendar was your entire social life. Suddenly you're alone with... yourself. And you haven't had a real conversation with that person in literally years.

The prestige was basically cocaine.

Research shows that "many insecure overachievers entered consulting because they felt a need to prove themselves." Leaving feels like publicly admitting you weren't good enough to make it to partner.

The structure vanished into thin air.

Consulting gave us frameworks for everything. MECE thinking. Pyramid principle. Hypothesis-driven problem solving. Without McKinsey's methodology holding our hand, how are we supposed to make basic decisions about our own lives?

One ex-Deloitte principal shared this absolutely devastating realization: "I realized I'd spent 12 years becoming really, really good at being a consultant. But I had no clue how to just... be a person."

From watching literally hundreds of exits, here's the emotional rollercoaster everyone rides:

This hits around 2-4 weeks after you leave. The initial euphoria of "freedom!" completely wears off, and you realize you have absolutely no idea how to fill your days without client deadlines breathing down your neck.

You miss the adrenaline.

You miss feeling important.

You miss having somewhere to be.

One woman told me: "I kept checking my work email for three months after I quit. Not because I missed the work—honestly, the work was terrible—but because getting those emails made me feel like I still mattered somewhere."

Big oof energy.

You try on new identities like you're shopping at Target. "I'm an entrepreneur now." "I'm a startup advisor." "I'm taking a strategic sabbatical to explore my options." You update your LinkedIn headline like seventeen times in two weeks.

Nothing feels right because you're still wearing the old consultant you underneath all the new costumes.

This is when the actual magic happens. You realize that your value as a human isn't your job title. Your intelligence isn't your employer's brand. Your worth isn't your hourly billing rate or how many frequent flier miles you rack up.

You start saying things like: "I used to be in consulting, and now I'm building something completely different." Not ashamed. Not defensive. Not apologetic. Just... honest.

Plot twist: this is also when you become genuinely interesting at parties for the first time in years.

Okay, real talk time. Here's how to navigate this transition without spiraling:

Your analytical thinking isn't "McKinsey thinking." It's YOUR thinking. Your stakeholder management skills aren't "Bain methodology." They're YOUR abilities that you developed and refined.

Make a list of every single skill you built in consulting. Then rewrite each one without mentioning your firm's name. You'll be genuinely shocked by how much you actually own versus how much you borrowed from a brand.

Brutal but necessary question: How many of your friendships exist outside of work context? If the answer is "like... two people," you need to start building real relationships now. Join hobby groups. Take random classes. Invest in people who knew you before you had that shiny business card.

In consulting, validation came from partners giving you good ratings, clients sending thank-you notes, and peers thinking you were smart. In real life, you need to create your own feedback loops. Set personal goals that matter to YOU. Track metrics that actually mean something. Celebrate wins that nobody else will even notice.

One former consultant started learning piano and told me: "For the first time in literally years, I was measuring progress by how something made me feel, not by what someone else thought of my performance. It was wild."

This sounds stupidly simple but it's actually revolutionary. Instead of "I'm a senior manager at Accenture," try "I help companies solve complex operational challenges." Or honestly, just try "I'm Sarah" and see what happens.

Watch how differently people respond when you lead with who you are as a person, not where you happen to work.

Here's what I've learned from coaching hundreds of consulting exits: The identity crisis is completely real and absolutely brutal, but it's also the best opportunity you'll ever get.

That "special" feeling you got from consulting? It was borrowed. It was never actually yours to keep.

The real you—the one who was smart enough to get into consulting in the first place, who survived those case interviews, who learned to think on their feet and manage impossible stakeholders—that person is still there. You just need to remember how to be them without external validation propping you up.

And honestly? The people who absolutely thrive post-consulting are the ones who figure out how to be genuinely proud of themselves without needing a fancy business card to hide behind.

That hits different when you really think about it.

Speaking of identity shifts, the whole industry is having its own massive crisis moment.

Recent data shows that attrition at top firms is running about 70% voluntary departures—meaning most people are actively choosing to leave, not getting pushed out. The narrative is completely shifting from "consulting as destination career" to "consulting as expensive stepping stone."

Even more telling: Fishbowl discussions are absolutely full of senior consultants questioning whether partner track is actually worth the sacrifice. The identity crisis isn't just hitting people who leave—it's hitting the ones who stay too.

Plot twist: maybe the real crisis isn't leaving consulting. Maybe it's staying way too long in a system that convinced you your job was your entire identity in the first place.

Wild concept, I know.

This week, try this tiny but potentially life-changing experiment: Introduce yourself to one new person without mentioning your job title. Not your company, not your level, not even your industry. Just see how it feels. See how they respond.

You might discover something absolutely wild: people are genuinely interested in you for reasons that have literally nothing to do with where you work or how much you bill per hour.

And that, honestly, is where your real identity was hiding all along.

Talk soon,

San