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“5 years and I barely know you”…. ….” Why don’t you ever

share anything?”……”I don’t know how to get you to talk”…..”Asking for help is okay!”

 

This is an excerpt from an MBA client's essay, who closed himself off for years from people (even his own direct family) because he saw, as a kid, how badly his father’s family treated his father when his business was struggling.

 

Everyone struggles; some people might not show it, and a lot of clients think that they are struggles are not tough compared to some of the sample essays that I show, but that’s the whole point it’s called a personal struggle, personal to you and what you think might be a simple struggle is hard for you personally.

 

Now, personal struggles are powerful in the sense that when you overcome them, not only have you gone through a major personal development, but you will find that you will appreciate life more.

 

My struggle has been my relationship with money. 

 

I was bullied intensely in a British boarding school, as I was not able to manage my body odor.

 

That turned into having nicknames like "Sheem" (to this day, I have no idea what it meant) or my surname being changed to Hass-a-Sheep instead of Hass-a-ram with all the requisite sheep shagging jokes (hilarious now as it was very smart, but not then).  Eventually, I was ostracized by my own year and had to live with a boy who was in the same position from another year.  This made me overly critical of myself, and I harboured deep-seated insecurity that I would never succeed or even try to.

 

My dad had a flourishing business when he was young, which failed in the 80’s. He got a job with someone in Nigeria, and after seven years, he decided to venture out on his own.  Unfortunately, the timing was not good, as he had moved to Indonesia the year before the Asian Financial Crisis.  I was serving my National service in Singapore and had started tutoring A-levels to support him, and eventually turned that into a tuition agency.

 

My father was the life of the party, but he changed totally and was depressed and hardly said a word for 6 years before he passed. The day he died will be forever etched in my memory.  After National service, I moved back to England and got a job developing trading systems for banks.  Eight months later, I was hired by my client at double my previous salary.  The day I got the contract, I spoke to my dad and said, “Pops, don’t worry, I can look after you and Mom.” he died the next morning.  I knew he wanted to go. He was just waiting to know that my Mum would be looked after.

 

Eighteen months later, my mum passed away, and a few months after that, I received the promotion I had been dreaming of (because my sole motivation was to make money)- starting a new global exotic derivatives trading desk in South Africa.  While I was training for the position, I started developing anxiety about going as someone told me the problem with South Africa was that if I lost my job, not many other derivatives jobs would be available.  For the next 15 years, I had a pattern of anxiety whenever I felt I had done something that was going to hurt me financially.  From being too honest on insurance forms to making a mistake with a client would have me anxiety-ridden for weeks. At the base of the anxiety was a picture of my Dad sitting in our living room and not talking. 

 

It all started with applying for an MBA. The first year, I got so anxious that I had to abandon the applications and try again the following year.  I struggled similarly the following year, but was given sage advice from my sister: "Write from your heart," which prompted me to write a 12-page autobiography that I later turned into essays.

 

This anxiety resurfaced more intensely during McKinsey (which I joined after my MBA), where, after struggling on the first few projects, I  faced an uphill battle and spent a good portion of my time fighting to get onto projects to fix my reputation - unfortunately, that never happened.  After, I started Rocket Internet's first company in Indonesia, an exciting job, but I left it to join a reclusive billionaire in Malaysia to set up a physical commodity trading operation, all for the money.  Of course, that flopped in six months, and I had two other jobs.  In between each job, there was an intense period of anxiety and depression (sometimes a few months, the worst nearly a year), and with that came weight gain.

 

In 2016, after leaving a food-tech company, one of my best friends called me up and said I had been following the same pattern for 6 years and that I had to take time off to work on my mind and then my body. As soon as he said it, I knew he was right.  Immediately, I flew to India (as Indonesia had a dearth of mental health professionals).  In those few months, I learned that it would take time to change my thinking.  So, I moved to India to work on myself and started doing MBA Admissions consulting to cover expenses, which eventually turned into a business.

 

5 years of therapy and trying everything from hypnosis to inner child and breath work. Each methodology taught me something new about myself or how to manage anxiety better.  What those 5 years did was give me stability and a bank balance (a big factor in my recovery).  I did have your typical 0-to-1 behavior, so I learned to take small steps and prioritize, since one can’t work on too many things at once.  This journey was not smooth. I learned that life is not a straight line and that sometimes it's a few steps forward and a big step back. In the end, all the work gave me a foundation to quieten my mind so I could look deeply within and reflect to understand myself.   Yes, I still get anxious, but now I don't let it dictate my behavior as much (or for as long). 

 

The most important part of the journey has been my support system. Firstly, the countless aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who have been there for me (you know who you are; thank you). Most important has been my family. My sisters have been my anchors and lighthouses; without them, I would not have gotten past this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And a last word, to my brother-in-law, thank you for helping me navigate my Rollercoaster of a career. Without your counsel, I would not have gotten the room to do the work that I had to do to get here.

 

And the best thing is that I am no longer hard on myself. I’ve realized that growth doesn’t come from perfection - it comes from compassion. Forgiving myself has allowed me to move forward with clarity rather than staying stuck in self-blame. It’s still a work in progress, but choosing to be kinder to myself has made me stronger, not weaker.

 

So, what did I learn from this

 

1. Own Your Story - All of It - The first step is radical ownership. That means acknowledging your pain, your setbacks, and your scars without shame. The things you’ve overcome are not liabilities - they are credentials. When you start owning your story, instead of hiding it, people begin to see your authenticity. And authenticity builds trust, influence, and connection.

 

2. Extract the Lessons - Struggle without reflection can feel senseless. But every hard moment you’ve lived through has something to teach you - about who you are, what matters to you, and what you’re capable of. Ask yourself: What did this experience teach me? What strengths did I develop because of it? How can I use that now? 

 

3. Build Empathy and Emotional Intelligence - People who’ve faced real adversity are often more compassionate, better listeners, and more emotionally intelligent. Why? Because they’ve lived through pain - and that makes them more attuned to the pain of others.

 

4. Channel It Into Purpose - Purpose is not about having a perfect life. It’s about turning your experiences, especially the tough ones, into service for others. Whether you're mentoring someone, launching a business, or simply showing up with vulnerability, your story has the power to inspire and guide.

 

5. Reframe the Narrative - Society might try to label you by your wounds: “the one who failed,” “the one who struggled,” “the one who broke.” But you have the right to rewrite that script. You are not what happened to you - you are what you did with what happened to you. That’s not denial. That’s power. When you reframe your struggle as the foundation of your strength, you stop being a victim of your past and start being the author of your future.

 

So, what's my story now? Having gone through this, I appreciate my life so much and what I have; I feel like one of the luckiest people in the world. I would not change a single thing in my life (apart from spending more time with my parents), and in the words of my favorite philosopher, Krishna Murthi, "I've no problem because I don't mind what happens.” (most of the time :))

 

 
 

 

When I first applied back in 2006, I did what many applicants do: I stared at my essays for hours, trying to make them sound perfect. The more I rewrote, the drier they became. I was so focused on how I was saying things that I lost sight of what I was trying to say. It got overwhelming - and in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to hit submit.

 

In 2007, I tried again for Round 1, but the same cycle of overthinking and perfectionism took over. I missed the deadline and felt utterly defeated.

 

Then I took a break. I went on holiday, stepped away from the noise, and when I was flying back, my sister told me: “Just write from the heart.” So that’s what I did. On the plane, I started writing - not worrying about polish or being perfect - just focusing on the core of my story. That messy, imperfect first draft became the foundation of my essays. And suddenly, the process didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore.

 

That’s precisely what I do with my clients today:


I strip away the noise by having them start with bullet points, so they focus on the substance before the polish.


I help them step back and breathe, mapping out recommender stories before obsessing over who to choose.


And when it comes to interviews, I recreate the same casual, friendly environment my sister gave me  - tough questions, yes, but always with a relaxed, authentic approach that builds confidence instead of stress.

 

Applications will always be hard. But when you take the pressure off yourself to be perfect and instead focus on clarity, structure, and authenticity, the whole process becomes far less overwhelming.

 
 

Six months. Forty interviews.The hardest rejection is the one that comes after hope.

 

One of my final ones was with a top FAANG company for a senior sales leadership role in Indonesia. By the fourth interview, I felt confident - maybe even certain - that this was it. The conversations were strong, the fit seemed perfect, and I could already picture myself stepping into that office, leading that team, building that next chapter of my career.

 

And then… I didn’t get it.  That rejection hit differently. It wasn’t just about losing the job - it was about losing the job I thought I already had. I had allowed myself to imagine the future too vividly, and when it disappeared, the silence felt deafening.

 

For a while, I stood still. And the longer I stayed still, the heavier that rejection felt.

 

What helped me get back up was motion - even small steps forward. Reaching out to new contacts. Preparing for the next conversation. I actually advise my clients to always keep at least 6-7 conversation open at any time so if a priority one falls out you other ones you can focus on. It doesn’t erase the disappointment, but it prevents it from consuming you.

 

The second shift was internal: not tying my identity to the outcome. That role would have been incredible, but a “no” from one company doesn’t mean a “no” to who I am. Our worth isn’t stamped by a hiring manager. It’s defined by the persistence we show in continuing to move forward, even when the outcome isn’t what we wanted.

 

Finally, I learned to zoom out. At the time, the rejection felt monumental - the biggest setback of my search. But now, with perspective, I see it as just one chapter in a much larger story. Looking back, if I had taken that job, it might have taken me longer to get to my true north, helping people find that next best step for their career.

 

Sometimes the door that closes was never really yours to begin with - it just clears space for the right one to open.

 

I’d love to hear from you - how have you handled rejection in your career, and what helped you move forward?



 
 
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