What To Do When Life Doesn’t Go Your Way

Have you ever poured your heart into something, only for it to fall completely flat? Like you finally worked up the courage to put yourself out there… and the universe replied with silence?

That recently happened to me. I posted a video on social media—something I’d taken time to create, something I felt proud of—and when it went live, the audio was completely muted. Just… nothing.

Common! All that work… (Cue the classic head-in-hands moment.)

Should I fight back and repost it louder, clearer, stronger? Or should I quietly retreat and accept it as a sign to stop? Shrink a little? Let it go?

We’ve all had those moments. The thing we launch that doesn’t land. The opportunity that vanishes. The setback that wasn’t supposed to happen. And suddenly we’re standing there, questioning ourselves.

Do I push through?
Do I pull back?
Do I keep going or give up?

But here’s the thing—what if there’s another way?

The Usual Dance: Fight or Retreat

When something doesn’t go our way, we tend to fall into one of two camps: fight harder or step away.

The problem? Neither option usually feels good. Pushing can leave us exhausted, resentful, and burnt out—especially when we’re up against something outside our control. And retreating can leave us with that quiet ache of “I gave up,” or worse, “Maybe I’m not good enough.”

I know this intimately.

Growing up in Sweden, I was surrounded by the quiet hum of Jantelagen—the unspoken code that says: don’t think you’re special, don’t speak too loud, don’t make a fuss. So when things don’t work out, that voice still creeps in… Who do you think you are? Sit down. Be quiet.

But there is another path.

The Third Way: Create Through It

That muted video could’ve been a throwaway moment. But something in me said: No. Pause. There’s something here.

Instead of fighting back or vanishing quietly, I asked myself: What can I make of this?

That simple shift—that curiosity—is powerful. I could’ve deleted the video, but instead I let it guide me. Maybe the silence was the point. Maybe I was supposed to speak about that—about the frustration, the invisible work, the times things don’t go as planned.

And here we are.

Creativity isn’t always painting or singing. Sometimes, it’s choosing to respond differently. It’s seeing the raw material in front of you—even when it’s not what you hoped for—and finding a way to shape it into something meaningful.

Why This Matters

When we meet our setbacks creatively, something changes.

We move from reactivity to response. From victimhood to authorship. We stop needing everything to be perfect before we show up. And we begin to honour what is, instead of fighting what’s not.

That’s not toxic positivity. It’s not pretending you’re fine when you’re not. It’s about transmuting. Taking the mess and making something from it. Something honest. Something that maybe… helps someone else along the way too.

A Simple Practice

Next time something goes wrong—and it will, because that’s life—ask yourself these 3 questions:

What is this situation trying to show me?
Not in a forced “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, but genuinely—what’s life holding up in front of me right now? Is it asking me to slow down? To speak up? To let go of something that’s not aligned anymore? There’s often a message, but you have to get quiet enough to hear it.
Where’s the gold in the rubble?
Even in the most frustrating or disappointing moments, there’s usually something worth salvaging—a lesson, a new idea, a deeper connection with yourself. The gold doesn’t always look shiny at first. Sometimes it’s buried in dust and frustration. But it’s there.
How can I make this mine?
This is where the shift happens. Instead of feeling like life is happening to you, this question invites you to take creative ownership. It’s about turning a messy moment into something meaningful. Reclaiming the narrative. Making something that reflects you, not just the circumstance.

You don’t need to rush into meaning-making. Just notice what answers emerge, or let the silence itself speak.

Because sometimes—no, most of the time—what looks like failure is actually redirection. A doorway. A new shape waiting to be formed.

Let This Be the Beginning

That muted video? It didn’t stop me. It became this instead.

And maybe next time something doesn’t go your way, you’ll remember this too:

You don’t have to fight.
You don’t have to fold.
You can stay.
You can breathe.
You can create.

Because you’re not here to disappear quietly.
You’re here to shape something from the mess.