I’m no stranger to trying and failing. Over the past five years, I’ve tried more side hustles and projects than I probably should have. I guess I’m more scared of regret than failure. But lately, I’ve noticed a change in myself, and not a good one. Over the past couple of months, I seem to have quietly lost my appetite for trying. It’s one thing to see someone else change over time, but feeling yourself change is scarier than I’d like to admit.
Even though it’s hard for me to pinpoint when and how it happened, I believe it has to do with my latest project (surprise, surprise) and what ensued afterward. Among the many things I planned for this year was building an e-learning platform where I could publish and sell online courses. It sounds simple when you say it in a sentence like that, but you quickly learn it’s not an easy feat once you actually get started. Still, I was ready and genuinely excited about it.
The first thing I had to check off my to-do list for this project was creating the actual course, which meant I had to select a course within my domain that has actual demand and then prepare training materials and resources accordingly. After that, I had to sit in front of the camera and rant my head off while trying to pack as much value into each video as I can, which was more frustrating than I had anticipated.
Sometimes, I would rant for 20 minutes without realizing I haven’t hit record. Other times, I would repeat the same line a million times while cursing at the camera, and don’t even ask me the number of times I yelled at the traffic outside my office window, because people just can’t seem to drive without honking every two seconds.
Despite all of my frustrations, I was able to finally finish compiling my first ever online course. I wish I could say that was the hardest part, but it wasn’t. Next, I had to build a website where I could publish and sell my courses.
Although I consider myself fairly well-versed technically, making sure every part of the website was functional and eye-catching was a whole new project on its own. Every time I thought I was finally done, something would crash. Every time I was ready to launch, I would discover a new bug. It felt like playing hide and seek with someone when you don’t even know what they look like.
Eventually, I was able to complete the project and publish the course. After that, I created a few ads on social media to promote it, which thankfully got some traction. For a moment, I felt like I was onto something. A few days passed, but despite the initial interest, nothing really converted into sales. I started to feel a bit of panic, thinking all of the work I had put in might go to waste. Then I reminded myself that I was being impatient and that I should give it some time.
A week had gone by, and there was still nothing. I created a few more ads, thinking all it needed was a little push in promotion, but beyond a few random inquiries and some comments here and there, nothing was moving the needle.
At this point, I started to feel the panic I had felt at the beginning turning into disappointment. I began to think I must have miscalculated something, or that I should have done more research before getting started, or maybe I should have used that time to try something else. I was asking myself all these questions because I wasn’t ready to accept that, just like many things I had tried in the past, this might not amount to anything.
In the weeks that followed, I was understandably feeling low. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I felt defeated. Perhaps what’s more alarming was that the feeling stuck around longer than it should have. I still went to work, but part of me wasn’t really there. It felt like the optimistic and energetic part of me was slowly detaching from me.
It was strange because I’ve been down more times than I can remember, but I usually bounce back quickly. Why does it feel different this time? Could this be a sign that I should step away from work for a while?
It was a random Saturday afternoon. I had finished the usual office work and had the afternoon all to myself. Given what I had been through a few weeks prior, I wanted nothing to do with work and was longing for some rest and entertainment, but I knew deep down that no amount of distraction could hold my attention for long before my mind started to wander elsewhere.
So, I was sitting there alone in my office, thinking of ways to keep myself busy, when all of a sudden, I received a text message on my phone.
The message was from my bank stating that my account had been credited with 3,999 br. I read it and was confused. I don’t remember lending anyone any money. Better yet, I don’t even know anyone with that name.
They must have meant to send it to someone else (3,999 br. I know how stingy). I started thinking about how I could send the money back, but before I could finish that thought, I received an email—an email stating that I had just made my first sale.
Reading that email, I experienced a mix of shock, confusion, and excitement all at the same time. Although it had been close to a month, someone finally discovered my product, went on my website, and decided to buy. I can’t express to you how validating that was to me. Making a single sale may seem insignificant, but that was all I needed at that moment. Just a little sign that lets me know that all of that effort, time, and commitment wasn’t for nothing.
Day by day, that dark cloud that had been hanging over my head for weeks started to dissipate. And most rewarding of all, I felt that optimistic and energetic part of me that I thought I lost slowly re-emerge. And just like that I was back, willing to try again and more importantly ready to fail again.