On Being Real About Failure.

I gave a talk a couple weeks ago at the W2O Precommerce Summit at the invitation of the lovely Aaron Strout and Bob Pearson.

When I was thinking about the 10-minute speech – which is much harder than you think – I asked Aaron if there was anything in particular he’d like me to talk about.

His answer was that he wanted me to talk about the differences in storytelling as an individual contributor – a blogger, an “influencer”, a content creator – and then storytelling as a professional representing an organization.

My thesis was simple: the difference is largely scale and ownership, and realizing that when you speak for an organization, you have the responsibility of using your voice on behalf of many rather than just yourself. That’s both challenging and rewarding.

But there is one big thing that both roles have in common that make the difference between success and failure, and that’s having a sense of purpose for your story.

Whether you’re a blogger or a corporate marketing VP, your story needs to have purpose. Emotional hooks. Passion and reason and lots of sense of direction and possibility. I don’t care if you’re telling stories about orphans or animals or technology. Purpose is key.

To illustrate that point, I shared a story about the time I failed terribly at having purpose behind my story, and it cost me the success of my business. I was aimless, directionless and passionless, and it cost me everything.

The talk was finished, I walked offstage, and people came up to me almost immediately.

But it wasn’t the “hey thanks, I learned something” or “hey can I have your card, I’d like to talk to you.”

It was people thanking me for getting up and admitting that I failed. That I started a business venture that didn’t succeed, and that it cost me a lot of money and heartache and relationships in the wake of it.

And more importantly, here I was on the other side of it, thriving.

This breaks my heart.

We all need to know we aren’t alone when we fail. The filtered world of the web shows us so many things about people, but the highlight reels often don’t contain the missteps and the embarrassments and the financial meltdowns and the losses of friends or marriages or houses or credit ratings or reputations.

But those exist. And so many of us sit in corners, wrecked, totally convinced that we’re the only ones who were stupid enough to get ourselves in this place. What disasters we must be.

But I’m all about sharing that stuff.

People sometimes get all uppity about my “oversharing”, because things that aren’t pretty make us uncomfortable, and it makes us have to feel complicated feelings and look in the mirror and wonder where we fit into those stories.

[If you’re uncomfortable with the realness by the by, the door is over there. You won’t hurt my feelings. Good luck with the rose-colored glasses thing. —> ]

Yet I’m convinced if we all shared just a little more of our failings, a little more about where we made stupid decisions, a little more about how it affected our feelings and our mindsets and our confidence, we just might find a little healing in each other along the way.

So if you have questions about my failings, experiences and learnings along the way, please ask away. I’m happy to share (without sharing anything about others whose stories are not mine to tell).

I think we’re all the better for it.