Failure isn’t a verdict; it’s a teacher

Somewhere along the way we learnt that failure is proof we’re not good enough. For women founders, that message can be deafening. But failure is simply feedback. We don’t become braver by dodging it; we become braver by moving through it.
After nearly three decades as a solopreneur, I’ve had launches that flopped, offers that fizzled, and ideas that arrived before their time. Each “miss” sharpened my instincts. My Human Design is line 3—the experimenter—so my natural way is trial, error, integrate, refine. Even if you don’t speak that language, you’ll know the pattern: try, learn, adjust. That is how real competence is built.

The jewellery business that taught me everything

 In 2014 my mum became suddenly paralysed from the neck down. Life as we knew it rearranged itself in an instant. She had lovingly looked after my girls while I travelled for projects, so when she fell ill the practical and emotional load swelled at the same time.
I started making jewellery to steady my nervous system. Hands busy, breath slower, tiny glimmers of hope appearing as metal and stones became something beautiful. I improved with practice and took courses: collection design, marketing, Instagram, photography. If you scroll far enough back on my IG you’ll still find it—messy, earnest, and full of heart.
I built an online shop and went to in-person events. A highlight was being featured on a leading platform for jewellery designers. Then Covid arrived. Jewellery wasn’t top of mind for people on Zoom from their kitchen tables. I kept it going alongside other work for a while, but in 2023 I chose to close that chapter.

Was that a failure? On a spreadsheet, perhaps. In my body and my becoming, absolutely not. That season helped me metabolise grief after Mum passed in 2016. It taught me things I use every single day in my coaching: how to tell a product’s story, how to speak to real humans (not algorithms), how to hold myself steady in uncertainty, and how to keep creating.

What endures when a chapter ends

Here’s what I want you to hear: closing a business can be an act of preservation. It protects your energy, your family, your truest work. It’s curation, not capitulation. The so-called failure becomes compost—rich with nutrients—for whatever you grow next.
From that “ending” I carried forward:

• Skills that travel — marketing fundamentals, audience building, systems.

• Confidence that compounds — the sort only reps can buy.

• Courage that stays — evidence that I can begin again.

If fear is stopping you
Notice how socially acceptable “I’m afraid to fail” sounds—and how effectively it keeps brilliant women from doing the very thing that would change everything: taking the next action.
Try this:

1. Name the smallest step that proves you’re in the arena (send the email, price the offer, publish the post).

2. Give it a time-box (20 minutes) and do it before lunch.

3. Debrief without drama: What worked? What didn’t? What will I try next?

Failure doesn’t define you; your response does. And if you’re closing a chapter this year, honour it. Gather the lessons, keep the love, and carry the courage. The fear of failing is far costlier than the clean, honest decision to end what no longer fits.

Much love,

Sharonah x