Growing up, I was always taught that challenging myself was the key to growth. If something was uncomfortable, to me, that probably meant it was worthwhile.
Investment banking seemed to fit that bill perfectly.
So, after I graduated from college, I accepted a job as an investment-banking analyst, jumping into an industry full of intensity and rigor that I thought would serve as a launchpad toward a life of long-term success.
Drawn to the challenge that the role offered, I dove right in. The prospect of gaining financial intuition and building the analytical toolkit of a mini CFO sounded like the ultimate accomplishment.
Rather than emerging with a deep insight into evaluating businesses, I spent most of my two years there focusing on execution: learning highly specific processes, navigating tight deadlines, and delivering work under relentless pressure with minimal sleep.
I soon realized that, despite how hard I was working, this experience wasn’t shaping me into the person I’d hoped to become.
So, I began asking myself a bigger question: If this isn’t the path to fulfillment, what is?
Hearing my own priorities out loud pushed me to a new field and continent
Alex Blumenfeld
About a year and a half into that role, I decided to ask my dad the existential question I’d been quietly wrestling with for months.
“What’s the point of life?” I asked him. “Like, why do we get out of bed every morning?”
I saw a look of concern briefly flicker across his face before he steeled himself with a deep breath. We sat quietly for a few minutes before he answered.
“For me,” he said, “it’s experiences. It’s being fully present during the brief period we get to be alive.”
Then he asked what I thought.
I realized my answer had nothing to do with compensation or prestige. Instead, I wanted to build meaningful relationships and make a positive impact on other living things. I wanted to contribute to something that improved the lives of people, animals, or ecosystems.
And overall, I was eager to feel connected to something larger than myself — even if it meant leaving the job I thought I wanted and moving somewhere new.
I spent the next few months researching wildlife-conservation roles around the world and applying for them. It was a passion of mine, and I hoped a career jump could finally offer the fulfillment I was craving.
Eventually, I found the perfect fit and landed a fundraising and strategy position at a science-based conservation and community outreach nonprofit in southeastern Zimbabwe.
Uprooting my life was more exciting than scary
Alex Blumenfeld
In the summer of 2025, after officially reaching two years in finance, I quit my job in investment banking. Not long after, I packed my bags for Africa.
People often ask me whether I was scared to be far away from my family, friends, and familiar life in New York City, especially since I’d never been to Zimbabwe. The truth is, I was so excited for the adventure that I barely thought about what I was leaving behind.
Plus, having visited other parts of Africa before and grown up spending my weekends riding horses and hanging out in nature, living in the wilderness felt less like a radical departure and more like a return to myself.
Now, nearly a year after moving here, my life couldn’t look more different. I live in a small, thatched cottage on the reserve. A hippo frequents the dam behind my house. Buffalo graze outside my front door. I recently found a python living above my porch.
From the outside, it probably sounds much more stressful than my old life in Manhattan. Ironically, I’ve never felt more at peace.
Instead of spending my days tweaking financial models from a midtown high-rise, I’m surrounded by nature, and I’m finally filling my days with work I genuinely care about.
Every day, I have the privilege of learning from ecologists, researchers, wildlife managers, and community leaders who have devoted their lives to safeguarding this incredible landscape and the animals who call it home.
My job is to help tell their stories, curate support, and raise funding for our organization’s continued efforts.
This new life comes with challenges, but they actually fulfill me
Alex Blumenfeld
Living on a wildlife reserve has its own difficulties. Local resources are limited. My role comes with a lot of autonomy and less of a typical structure, which can be tricky to navigate. I live thousands of miles from family and friends and in a different time zone.
However, these challenges energize me rather than drain me because they’re in service of something I genuinely care about — and something I hope to spend many more years pursuing, whether here in Zimbabwe or elsewhere across the world.
In the end, I’m grateful for my time in investment banking. It might not have been my dream field, but it taught me discipline and resilience and, more importantly, forced me to rethink what success actually meant.
I still believe growth comes from challenging yourself — I just no longer believe the hardest path is necessarily the one that produces the most growth. The challenge worth choosing is the one that helps you become the person you want to be.
