I Hosted A Workshop Only 3 People Attended. But Was it a Failure?

Redefining success through the lens of creating impact.

You either win or you learn.

At least that’s what the self-improvement gurus say on the internet.

But when you build in public, you also fail in public. Everyone who sees your promotion posts will also see the kind of reception you get on your product.

Accepting failure as lesson is easier said that done. 

I know. I’ve been there. It tastes bitter, acidic, like all your effort was for nothing. You feel like deleting all your work and never releasing any product ever again.

Okay, before I go on a rant, let me start this story from the beginning: an idea.

Like all success (or lack thereof) stories, mine began with an idea. I’ve been doing personal annual reviews for over seven years now. They’ve helped me identify my strengths and weaknesses, consolidate my confidence, and get the most out of the goals I set that year. It’s a gift I discovered in my early 20s, and have been swearing by it ever since.

So, I thought, why not share this gift with the world?

That’s when I came up with the brilliant idea of conducting a Live Personal Annual Review + Goal-Setting Workshop. I set up a landing page, put a minimal price to it, and couldn’t wait to share it with the world.

The promotions that should have succeeded, but spectacularly failed

You know the dopamine rush that comes from knowing you’ve hit the jackpot, but need to wait a few days until you can access it? That’s exactly how I felt after setting up the landing page.

I was jumping with excitement, waiting for the world to witness this brilliance, eager to be a positive influence on hundreds of lives around the world.

There was also a slightly selfish motive. A lot of my client payments for December have been delayed until 2025. I needed some cash to end the year on a high note. I thought this workshop, though minimally priced, could help me ease the burn.

I went all in on the promotions. I started by writing an annual review article. I poured my heart into it, and since it was so personal and unique, hoped it would get boosted. But it didn’t. Non-boosted stories on Medium barely get any traction, and my article only got 327 views. 

I put my heart out into the world, but it failed spectacularly. 

I should have taken that as a sign, but I remembered Renuka Gavrani’s video on the sacred importance of ideas. She says the idea could have come to anyone, but it came to you. It’s your duty to honor the idea.

I was convinced my idea for an annual review workshop would be life-changing for whoever attends. And so, I set up an email newsletter sequence. My posts got good enough views, but 0 conversions.

I was disappointed, but refused to give up. I started making short videos for YouTube, and reels for Instagram and Facebook.

I shot a total of 7 short videos and plastered them all over Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube. This might sound easy, but recording, editing, writing captions, and posting take up a hell lot of work. I was exhausted, but the anticipation kept me going.

The result? The maximum views a video got was 1400. The rest languished in the 500–800 views range. Some videos had as little as 300 views. I have 10.4k followers on Instagram, so this was a bitter disappointment.

The one sign-up that kept me going

At this point, I’d have abandoned the idea and deleted my promotional material. But I got an email that one person had signed up for the workshop.

I was so overwhelmed by then, that I started crying. I decided that I’d show up for this one person because they chose to place their trust in me. The pay was peanuts, but the trust meant more to me than the money. And so, I kept pushing on.

Every day, I’d post a new video, get disheartened by the low views, and every day, I’d die a little inside. I shared these emotions with my best friend, and she told me something that helped — 

“I know you’re a professional, and you’ll anyway show up for the workshop. When you’re doing the promotions, you might as well do them with some positivity? Don’t think it will be a failure just because you aren’t getting any views. There’s still time, I believe in you.”

My best friend believed in me. I decided to let go of my negativity and keep on posting. Hope was dwindling day by day, but by this time, I was at a place none of this could affect me. I’d grown immune to the low views and less sign-ups. I had one person, and I was determined to conduct the workshop for them.

D-Day dawned bright and clear

I had 6 sign-ups in total on D-day. The money I made wouldn’t even cover a week’s groceries, but I was committed now.

I prepared a beautiful presentation with 12 questions: 

• 7 for 2024 annual review
• 4 for carrying forward the lessons to 2025
• 1 prompt for daily habits and goal-setting for 2025.

I figured if I gave the participants 4 minutes for each of the 12 questions, I could wrap up the live session within 60 minutes. It sounded like a perfect plan.

When the clock struck 7 PM, I started the call, and three people joined in. For 6 registrations, 50% showing up was actually a good statistic. But since there were only four of us, I thought maybe I could make the session a bit more interactive. 

I started the session with a short introduction on what to expect and what the participants would need (a journal and pen, that’s all). I gave a few tips on getting into the journaling mindset, and we started with the review questions.

After displaying the question for 4 minutes on screen, I shared what I wrote in my journal. I asked if anyone would like to go ahead and share their reflections. It started with one person per question, but soon, all four of us were sharing the reflections, thoughts, and ideas we’d jotted down.

It was inspiring to see the reflections the participants came up with, and how generously they shared their insights with the rest of us. It was give-and-take of the purest nature. People were nodding and smiling when another person was sharing their thoughts. The atmosphere was supportive, uplifting, and full of hope. 

The biggest takeaway was the sense of community — that no matter how they’re feeling, they aren’t alone. There’s a bunch of enthussiastic, hard-working people trying to live their best life. And this knowledge was inspiration enough to start the new year on a high note.

What was supposed to be a one hour call extended to 2 hours and 26 minutes. I was exhausted by the end. But when I asked the participants if they were tired, the only words they had to describe the session were — 

• Productive
• Insightful
• Much-needed
• Eye-opening
• Helpful

And more. But do you notice the pattern? There were no negative words like “tiring” or “too few attendees.” Everyone left the session with a big smile, and I consider that a win.

The lessons I learned from this failed workshop

Impact-wise, the session wasn’t a failure. Whoever attended, left with new reflections and insights. I conducted my own review alongside the attendees, and set up goals and habits for next year. I also took 10 pages worth of notes based on whatever insights the participants shared.

But it didn’t give me what I wanted. I spent a lot of effort in creating and promoting the workshop. Hosting a 2 hour 26 minute call left me drained. And what did I have to show for it? A measly 2474 rupees (not even $30 US).

It wasn’t an effective utilization of my time. And at a point when I’m doubting myself so hard, this workshop wasn’t the morale boost I’d hoped for.

Here are the lessons I learned from this failed workshop launch — 

• My audience is more interested in writing-related guidance from me. If I’d hosted a writing or freelancing workshop, probably more people might have turned up.
• Short videos are the worst way to promote a new product launch. But what’s the best way? I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.
• Market research is important before launching a new product. I should have conducted a few surveys to see if people are intersted in learning from me. A dismal response might have saved me from putting in so much effort for nothing.
• A creator’s life is full of ups and downs. One failure doesn’t define my journey, and shouldn’t define my mood. The only way to move on is to keep pushing ahead, create better content, and try to leave an impact on this world.

All in all, do I have regrets? 

Sure, I wish I’d never done this. I could have utilized my time and energy in creating something that might have pushed my career a little forward.

But when I think of the smiles and beautiful reviews of the people who attended, I can’t help but feel grateful that I’m at a position where I can create so much positive impact on three lives.

This workshop launch was a bittersweet experience. I probably won’t host another non-writing workshop in the future.

As a reader, if you’re looking for a takeaway, it’s this: No matter how good your idea might be, if your audience isn’t interested to learn that from you, going forward is meaningless.

Creators should know their audience inside and out. I know mine’s interested in writing. Still, I took a leap of faith, hoping they might want to learn to do an annual review with me. I made a mistake, and I’m not going to repeat this. I hope this inspires you to know your audience and offering intimately before launching into such an effort-exhaustive campaign.

If you’re struggling with being consistent, join my 100-Day Challenge community. You make a pledge to show up daily for 100 days. Along the journey, you meet and network with a bunch of talented writers working towards the same goal: to become a kickass writer.

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