When Faced with Failure – and Why It Might Be the Point
- John C
- Jan 25
- 4 min read
This week, one of my 2026 goals was put on pause.
Not because I stopped trying. Not because I lost motivation. But because a program I spent months creating wasn’t reaching the people it was meant to serve. With too few sign-ups, we made the decision to take it off the schedule.
At first, I told myself all the right things.
This happens. On to what’s next. Rejection is redirection.
And for about a day, that felt true.
But then, that familiar voice showed up – you know it yourself, I'm sure. The quiet, insidious one that rarely shouts, but loves to whisper:
"You are a failure."
And just like that, shame crept its way in.
The Stories We Tell
Once that narrative was introduced, my brain did what brains are wired to do: it started building a case to support it.
I was suddenly flooded with a reminder of all the unanswered emails. The potential clients who ghosted. The programs that just didn’t seem to land the way I hoped they would.
And this single, postponed program evolved into “evidence” of a much bigger story – one about my worth, my capability, and my future as a coach.
But fun fact: this isn’t a personal flaw. It’s neuroscience.
Our brains are built with a negativity bias, meaning we’re more likely to notice, remember, and replay what didn’t work than what did. From an evolutionary standpoint, this helped keep our ancestors alive. But from a modern standpoint, it often keeps us stuck.
Psychologist and researcher Rick Hanson describes it simply:
“The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones.”
So when something doesn’t work, our minds don’t just register the data point – they assign meaning to it, trying to protect us from perceived or potential harm.
And without intention, that process often creates an intense amount of shame.
Why Failure Feels So Personal
I know I’m not alone in this.
Research consistently shows that by the second week of January, roughly 80% of New Year’s resolutions are abandoned. And while we talk a lot about motivation, discipline, and grit, we talk far less about what people quietly conclude in those moments:
"I’m the problem."
But here’s the truth that feels both uncomfortable and wonderfully freeing:
Failure isn’t the opposite of success – it’s a necessary part of the process.
Often the part that teaches us the most about ourselves and our journey toward success.
Psychologist Carol Dweck, known for her work on growth mindset, reminds us that when we view setbacks as information rather than indictments, we stay engaged, curious, and capable of growth. When we view them as proof of inadequacy, our brain interprets them as a direct threat to our well-being, and we shut down.
Same experience, but with vastly different outcomes.
So as it turns out, failure isn’t a stop sign. It’s feedback.
Shame: the Compulsive Liar
We all know the feeling too incredibly well. Shame tells us to collapse inward – to fixate on minor inconveniences or inadequacies and define ourselves by them.
But challenging our shame with curiosity shifts our focus, inviting us to zoom out and look at the bigger picture.
When I finally slowed down enough to look at my own experience with clarity instead of self-judgment, a different truth emerged: the program didn’t fail because it lacked value. It failed because it wasn’t aligned enough with how this community actually needed support.
And that matters.
So instead of forcing it forward, we listened.
Inspired by feedback shared by the community members directly, I’m now offering 1:1 coaching focused on the specific areas most important to them right now. No long, multi-week commitments. No heavy lift. Just direct, accessible support that meets people exactly where they are.
Same mission. Different format.
Rejection, meet redirection. Failure, meet opportunity.
And shame – you can see yourself out.
A Better Path Forward
We often treat goals like final exams: pass or fail. But a more accurate metaphor might be navigation.
When your GPS recalculates, it’s not judging you or defining you in any way. It’s responding to new information.
You missed a turn. There was an accident or change in traffic patterns. A road closed unexpectedly.
So, it adjusts.
Not because you’re bad at driving. Because the environment changed.
What if our goals worked the same way?
If something you worked toward didn’t unfold the way you hoped – if shame is quietly creeping into your experience – maybe you can find your own way to recalibrate.
Ask yourself:
What is this trying to teach me?
What do I know now that I didn’t before?
How could I move forward with more clarity toward a successful outcome?
Research on self-compassion – particularly the work of Dr. Kristin Neff – shows that people who respond to setbacks with curiosity and kindness are far more resilient, more motivated, and more likely to try again than those who respond with criticism.
Not because they lower their standards. But because they refocus their energy away from shame and toward growth.
Final Thoughts
Shame thrives in isolation. It tells us to keep quiet, to retreat, to pretend we’re fine. To never let them see you sweat.
But support – real support – loosens its grip.
That’s why our friends, family, and communities matter. That’s why mentors matter. That’s why conversations like this matter.
So if this resonates with you, please hear this clearly:
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are not a failture.
And you are not alone.
You are learning.
And learning – messy, nonlinear, and deeply human – is how anything meaningful gets built.
So if you know someone sitting with a setback right now, please consider reaching out to them or passing this along to show your support.
And if you need some additional support along your journey, please do not hesitate to schedule a coaching session.
Because shame can be powerful.
But there’s nothing quite like clarity, compassion, and community to remind us who we really are – and what’s still possible from here.




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