You Don’t Need Certainty to Make a Clear Decision
- Stella Beckmann

- 10 hours ago
- 3 min read

When I was sixteen, I asked my sister’s friends, “So, what does a consultant actually do?”
Chuckles rippled through the room.
“That’s the question,” they said.
My brows furrowed.
Now, I’m one week away from starting my job at McKinsey & Company. A year ago, I chose consulting not because I had everything mapped out, but because I recognised a pattern in how I think, work, and perform in different environments.
How do you decide your path when you don’t yet have full certainty?
I’ve learned that clarity doesn’t come from knowing every detail in advance. It comes from recognising patterns over time — where your thinking sharpens, your focus gathers, and effort feels disciplined rather than forced.
That recognition didn’t happen all at once; it emerged gradually through my university years.
My sister had been part of the University of Auckland Case Programme, working on real business problems in a structured setting. I watched how it sharpened her thinking and confidence. When I began university, I applied to the same programme — at the time, studying a conjoint degree in Law and Commerce, with the law path in mind.
I found myself drawn to the same things she had: the way problems were broken down, the pace, and the process of challenging and refining ideas. I liked being around people who cared about doing things well. I didn’t yet have a clear career goal, but I noticed where my thinking felt most alive.
Each summer, more people around me interned at large consulting, finance, and law firms, especially others in the programme. Conversations revolved around who was applying where and who had landed what.
Without making a conscious decision, I followed a similar path — interning, applying, saying yes — while internally questioning whether I was choosing deliberately or just doing it because everyone else was.
After a two-month internship at an international legal and advisory firm in Bangkok, I decided not to continue with law, giving up my law scholarship in the process. It felt like walking away from something I was supposed to want, but I couldn’t justify committing six years to a demanding degree without a clear intention to follow the trajectory it was designed for.
I continued with a Bachelor of Commerce, which was broader, shorter, and less prescriptive. The openness was freeing, but it also made decisions feel heavier. Other possibilities flickered through my mind. What if I did something creative? Studied longer? Joined a startup?
When everything felt possible, choosing anything felt difficult.
The first time I applied to MBB, I didn’t receive any interviews. At the time, it felt like a sign it wasn’t meant for me. In hindsight, it was a sign of something else: a lack of full commitment. That difference tends to show in how you prepare and how you show up.
The turning point came while studying abroad in the United States.
At Dartmouth College, I noticed something familiar almost immediately. It felt like the Case Club expanded to an institutional scale. You could feel the standard without anyone pointing to it. Ideas spilled into conversations, conversations into projects.
And, as before, many seemed to be moving toward consulting and investment banking.
Beyond this, I noticed something about myself: I was finishing assignments faster, speaking more decisively in class, and still had energy at the end of the day. Balancing demanding courses with new extracurriculars and social commitments was intense, yet that structure sharpened my focus.
That was when the pattern became clear.
I didn’t need to know exactly what consulting was, or map out a ten-year plan, to make a decision. There was no perfect choice waiting to be revealed. What I did know was that I wanted to continue placing myself in environments that valued rigour, curiosity, and momentum — environments that demanded the way I already thought and worked.
When I returned home, I stopped circling the question and committed with a clear goal in mind. I prepared fully, followed through, and received the offer.
Looking back, I’m grateful I paused long enough to reflect on what genuinely engaged me. I didn’t need a perfect definition of consulting to feel grounded in my decision; I recognised how I think, how I work under pressure, and the environments in which I perform best.





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