No one tells you the truth about being an Investment banker. Not on the career day in college or in the glossy brochures. Not even in business schools. The truth is being an investment banker in New York is like signing an unspoken pact with chaos. You’re constantly trading your time, body and sometimes even soul for a title, a paycheck and for sitting in a seat at the desk of a top-tier company. But the table is sharp-edged, and the chairs are uncomfortable.
I won’t tell you my name; You’ve probably passed me on the sidewalk outside Midtown, eyes bloodshot, suit impeccable, Bluetooth in my ear. I’ve done deals you’ve read about in The journal regarding mergers, IPOs, and buyouts that look sexy in headlines but were stitched together with caffeine, panic, and 3 am slide decks. I wake up with emails every day, and I fall asleep with spreadsheets opened on my bed. And weekends are just another escape routine, but my phone is never off, ever. There’s always something to review, something to update or a managing director who “just wants to get ahead of their monday”. It’s not an outstanding work-life balance. It is all about work-work compromise.
You lose track of everyday things. What day is it? What your friends are doing? Whether you’ve eaten anything that wasn’t from Seamless, you measure your life in deadlines and deliverables. Billables and bonuses define your worth. And when that bonus hits? It’s less joy and more relief. Because by then, you’re already too deep to celebrate.
But I want to say it’s not all misery; the adrenaline in closing a billion-dollar deal. There is pride in knowing you can hang in one of the most demanding industries in the most unforgiving city in the world. There’s a high that comes from being the fixer, the closer, the one they call when everything’s on fire. And sometimes, I walk out of the building at 2 am when the city is half asleep and the streets are quiet; I remember why I started. Ambition. Drive. Wanting to be someone.
I don’t know how long I’ll stay in this world. No one does. It burns you out. It chews you up. But for now, I’m still standing and still running with the wolves and still chasing the next deal.
So dont believe everything you see in movies because the real drama is in the calendar invites, the redline edits, and the 500th version of a pitch book no one will really read.
Welcome to Wall Street.