What to Do When You Fail to Live Up to Your Own Expectations My product launch was a failure. But here's why that became a good thing.

You want success. So why won't it just come...easier?

Haven't you put in the work? The time? The agony? I'll be honest: This subject is raw for me. My recent product launch flopped, and I was crushed. Then I found something to pick myself back up. I want to give that to you today.

Because here's the thing: You will fail at something this year. It's a certainty. Failure comes for us all. But we will only be measured by how we respond.

So here's my story: I spent all of 2023 building a newsletter about how to be more satisfied and successful. I grew it to 45,000 subscribers. Then in November, I launched a paid upgrade.

After a week, only 14 people paid. To be clear: I adore those 14 people. They paid because they trust me, and that's an honor. But if we're talking pure numbers, 14 is 0.031% of my subscribers. So as grateful as I was, I also felt a wash of panic and embarrassment. Maybe I'd miscalculated? Maybe I'm just not good enough?

Related: 6 Things You Gain By Embracing Failure and Learning From Mistakes

Then I thought of entrepreneurs like you, who tell me their struggles and insecurities. I realized something: It's been a while since I've felt like a total failure — which means it's been a while since I could deeply, emotionally relate to what readers were saying and needing.

That's when I thought of three words that changed everything: This is useful.

This failure helps me relate more to the people I serve! It gives me new ideas. New insights. And it gives me a mission to do even better.

Whenever you fail, ask yourself: What is this failure for? And really emphasize the for. What purpose can it serve?

Our failures get all twisted up with self-doubt and rumination — Were all those hours of work wasted? If you were this far off the mark, are you fighting a losing battle?—and that uncertainty sits inside you like a deadweight, holding you down. It's painful because you — we! — are people of action. We want to keep moving, and failure feels like the end of action.

But what if that weight you're carrying is for something? What if it's actually a key designed for a specific keyhole? What if this painful stillness is not the end of action, but merely a reorientation, and your failure is the tool you needed to complete your mission?

Some founder friends have told me, "You didn't actually fail." Launches are hard, they say. People need time to decide. And 14 is fine for a new product! (It's grown since.) I acknowledge all this. But it just goes to show — failure is a matter of perspective, and I needed to fix mine.

So, uh, should I have shared all this? Some might argue no. They'd say it's embarrassing. You shouldn't reveal bad numbers. But here's why I did.

Related: 10 Lessons About Failure That Every Entrepreneur Needs to Know

I recently interviewed leadership expert Jacob Morgan, author of Leading with Vulnerability. He says we have vulnerability all wrong. We've come to lionize it at work, assuming that vulnerability builds trust — but Jacob surveyed 14,000 employees and found something more complex.

"Purely being vulnerable at work can cause you far more harm than good," he told me. Instead, leaders should just lead with it. Admit weakness, then follow with a plan. "Vulnerability creates connection, but you must also demonstrate competence," Jacob says.

This is the final lesson I draw from this experience. Simply telling you that I've failed is unlikely to inspire you. So instead, I'll tell you my plan: I'm using the failure. I'm experimenting with my pitch, interviewing subscribers, and working to build something valuable to 14 people, then 140, then 1,400, then more.

Because that's what we do when we fail, right? People of action do not just sit around, inactive. No, we figure it out. We try every key on every door, even when the doors stay locked. We keep trying when it's hard — especially when it's hard. This sounds cliché, I know, but that's because hard is hard is hard, and everyone's experienced it, and the best of us put it to use and live to tell the tale.