Leveraging Failure

My first attempt at leveraging my affiliate status on Amazon for Prime Day was a big ole whopping failure. For many long hours, I strategized, did research, prepared links and posted through various social-media channels. The result? I received not a single cent back from my efforts. It was quite the blow. The question, then, is “What is the secret to leveraging failure?”

As a gifted, people-pleasing kid growing up, I acquired the mindset that failure was not an option. That kept me from taking a lot of risks, which made my childhood pretty uneventful but nice. As an adult, however, with ambitious goals for myself, I’ve been reading more about the value of taking risks and the need to learn from failures in order to grow. If I don’t risk failure, can I really grow?

The hard thing about failure is that it doesn’t just feel like a personal experience. Failure becomes a label that irritates the ego. When I fail, I instantly take the extreme position that I’ve failed humanity. What stings more is it feels like I’ve failed my immediate family–the people on this planet I love the most that I’ve promised to take care of.

So how do I wrestle with these feelings associated with failure knowing that the quickest, most proven path to success is more consecutive failures? Enter mindfulness and its sobering effects. In practicing mindfulness, I bring my ruminating mind to the present reality. In this reality, my body aches, but it’s not excruciating. I’m not reaching my financial goals, but I’m still paying the bills and investing for the future. I can’t seem to find time to do everything I want, though I’m having meaningful interactions each day with each member of my household. In this present moment, life ain’t so bad. I’m surviving. I didn’t really lose anything, other than a ton of time, in my Prime Day failure.

What, then, are my takeaways from this failure that can make it worth my while? The number one takeaway is that you can’t practically disappear from social media and then expect the algorithms and the hearts of the masses to be on your side when you show up and start selling things. I had intentionally cut down on my social-media involvement after watching the sobering Netflix film, The Social Dilemma. Prior to that, I had been reading about the harmful mental effects of social media, but this documentary brought compelling evidence that Facebook, Twitter and the like were not serving my best interest.

The problem with re-engaging after so much radio silence is that it feels disingenuous. I justified it by thinking, “They’re going to be shopping anyway. Might as well take a cut at no extra cost to them.” In reality, it’s the same as a deadbeat dad pulling up in his estranged kid’s driveway to take her to a rodeo she has no interest in seeing. It cheapens the relationship, because the interaction is designed primarily for the dad to get something. The kid’s presence is just a formality. It’s mostly for the dad.

How might I better interact with you in a way that doesn’t seem so icky? Perhaps it’s through genuine, reliable blog posts. If social media is detrimental to my health, then shouldn’t I focus my attention on those who seek out my thoughts right here on this website? The blow to my ego is that an infinitesimal percentage of you actually visits this site. That’s in no way to make the masses who aren’t interested in what I have to say feel guilty. It’s a reminder that value can’t be faked, and that offering value to the right target audience takes time. If I write about my target audience’s interests and pain points, that audience will grow.

In the meantime, I’ve got a day job to pay the bills. I’ve got a family that loves me. As long as I continue to put my neck out there–as long as I allow myself to fail and learn to bounce back–I’ll achieve my goals eventually. I’ll continue to hustle because I want to provide my family with meaningful, enriching experiences.

The good news out of all this is that I probably won’t be blowing up your social feeds on Prime Day of 2024.