Rocio del Carpio

When I first moved into consulting, it was quite male-dominant, but I don’t believe it is anymore. It was really tough then. I think it's normal to feel that you have to compete to be like the male consultants. But then I realized that’s not at all what I had to do. I have to show up as a female consultant. I bring something completely different, at times complementary, at times more challenging. 

But there were times when I felt alone. There weren’t that many female consultants at the time, and sometimes people would say, “I am so happy to have you on the team. You’re different.” I’m not sure that made me feel that special, but I thought, yes, I am different, and I’m actually quite okay being different and not fitting into the mold. 

Even during the difficult moments, the reason I stayed is my husband. He’s my biggest supporter. He said to me: 

“You got this. You don’t have to be a man.” 

“You’re different,” they said. I had been different long before consulting. 

Am I good enough? 

It started with a game with my sister. I was five and she was seven, and every day we played school. She was more advanced, and because I was curious and wanted to learn, I kept playing until I realized I was doing her homework. There had to be something in it for me, too. I wanted her toys and her clothes, probably, so I changed the game into something I enjoyed and could get something out of. 

That curiosity and eagerness to learn turned into a phone call to my parents when I was six. My school said, “She’s ready for second grade, and you will hold her back if you put her in first.” It was a tough decision for them, so they asked me directly: “Do you want to do this?” That was really scary. I said, “I don’t know if I can.” 

So the question “Am I good enough?” was always there, because I wasn’t sure I could do it. It wasn’t about my self-worth. I think I had proven that with my sister. The doubt was about doing something different, something more challenging. Later you look back and you think, “Yes. You did it.” 

It shaped me. I learned to ask questions and to listen. I discovered the leadership traits that would make me a leader later. Influencing, for example. I was doing my sister’s homework, but I had to get something out of the deal, too. 

I finished high school at 15, a week after I turned 16. Peru was in a political and financial crisis, and I asked my parents, “What do I do? What kind of future do I have?” They said, “You just go for it.” I was always the youngest, and when I finished, I had teams, and everyone I led was older than me. How could I accomplish something so young, in a country that might not have much for me once I graduated? That was the scary part. 

Starting over, again and again 

I was born and raised in Peru. I moved to the US to finish my university education, thinking I’d do a couple of years and go back. I didn’t. I haven’t been back to Peru in almost 30 years. I met my husband, and I stayed. It happened again about a decade and a half later, when I moved to Denmark, and again two years ago, when I moved to Spain. 

What’s tough is not the move. It’s that you need to start all over again as a member of society. You have to welcome the new place, and you want to be welcomed, and that’s not always the case. Those are the defining moments: are they gonna like me in Denmark? I don’t speak Danish. Are they gonna like me in the US? I’m not from the US. Are they gonna like me in Spain? I speak Spanish, but I’m not from Spain. 

Moving to a different country gives you humility. You can’t do things alone. You need supporters when you’re trying something new. 

“Even if you appear bold, strong, and determined, there are many moments of weakness, and there are moments when you have to be vulnerable and say, ‘I don’t know, I’m new. Can you help me?’” 

My dad has always shown up for me. When I moved from the US to Denmark, my family was very disappointed. My sister told me years later that the disappointment was that we were moving further away. My dad came and did our packing. He found me in a big crisis, because I had two dogs and could only bring one. He took one of them. And he showed up in Denmark, probably when I needed him the most, because it felt lonely. It’s not a big production. It’s just, I’m here, and I got you. 

I don’t think you unlearn what it means to be strong. I think you will adapt to it given the circumstances. Some circumstances require you to be more overtly strong or more vocal about something. In some situations, being strong is just being silent. I just learned different ways to demonstrate how a person can be strong. 

“Strong doesn’t always mean being impressive or imposing or tough. Sometimes strong is soft and quiet and tender and caring.” 

What carries you is your values. They remain unchanged no matter how people may define your worth. 

Success, defined

If you ask me, what is my definition of success? Happiness. If you’re happy, you appreciate things for what they are. Big things don’t matter. Little things matter. I define success very personally: peace, happiness, being at ease with yourself and comfortable with who you are. 

When I was 15, I would have said I was curious, bold and a little scared. Today I’d say curious, bold and fearless. I have overcome that sentiment of scare. I’ve turned it into an opportunity. It’s okay to be scared. You will always have doubts. Turn that into determination. Turn that into passion. 

“I’m not trying to be anyone else. I just want to be me.”