I have now launched three online courses. And I have to say – each time, it’s been one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done.

I’m sure *someone* out there has it all figured out, but I have no problem saying that I most certainly do NOT. Despite having pulled off launches that brought in $20,000, $40,000, and even $100,000 and up.

My typical approach to launching something is to have tons of fun dreaming it up, get bogged down in the execution, and then find myself burning the candle at both ends trying to get it finished while simultaneously trying to “market” it – all while the thing is already out there in the world.

It’s a recipe for emotional disaster, and while I’m pretty sure I’m not the only entrepreneur who ends up in this situation, I still feel utterly lost and despairing when I’m standing there at 3 AM, gripping the sides of the sink, looking at my zit-covered chin and exhausted eyes in the mirror and realizing I’ve done it to myself… again.

A card-carrying “woman who takes on too much,” I’m also guilty of having extremely big visions for things.

This is a particularly deadly combination, because it means I refuse to back down on the depth and richness of my ideas, and then proceed to rebelliously and stubbornly try to tackle them all myself.

This time around, I’ve been more conscious than with past launches. I’ve leaned on our brilliant Student Support Gurus for help with design and curriculum development.

I hired two amazing new ladies who help out with community management and customer happiness (Hi Jade and Sara!), and I’ve been working with Kelly, our whip-smart systems expert, to get things running smoothly behind the scenes, so that we can all grow confidently, knowing that we can handle serving oodles and oodles of women all over the world.

And then… I hired Martha. Martha is my Creative Henchwoman and Girl Friday. She’s only been with us for a little while, but she has totally changed my world. Our first-ever full time team member, this quietly sarcastic, highly creative, quirky redhead just may be the best thing that’s ever happened to our business.

And last night I realized, in the midst of a Vox conversation with a lady friend, that I need to entrust Martha with more – and fast.

Because I’m still the vortex point for this launch – and that prevents me from operating in my zone of genius – which is the realm of intuition, inspiration, and innovation.

Plus, I’m kinda losing my grip on reality.

Yes, launches can be THAT intense – especially when the thing you’re launching is as dear to your heart (and your soul purpose) as mine is to me.

Case in point: I went out for dinner about a week and a half ago… my first night not spent in front of the computer in WEEKS – and when we parked the car, I literally stood in the street in a daze, feeling like I wasn’t even inside of my body.

After a few awkward seconds, I shook it off, went into the restaurant, and proceeded to eat a huge plate of chicken fingers, to the point that I thought I might burst.

For a while, it seemed like I might be OK.

Until I sobbed the whole way home – big, messy, wails of “maybe I should just give up” and “how do I know if it’s even WORTH it?”

It can feel, in these intense periods of putting yourself out there, that it will all be for nothing. That your program won’t help anybody, that no one will buy, that exactly zero people will appreciate the months of blood, sweat, and tears you’ve poured into this thing of yours.

I want you to know, if ever you launch something (“big” or “small”), that at times, it won’t be pretty.

Someday, it might very well be YOU, sobbing in the car on the way home from a big night of chicken fingers.

But it’s not a reason to not create that thing you have in mind – because you’ve got something inside of you that NEEDS to come out. And I don’t mean a parasite. I mean a purpose. A vision. A healing for the world.

And letting it out… giving it shape, and form, and a name.. and serving others with it… it’s what you’re here to do.

So the question remains… is there a way to launch calmly? A way to avoid swinging back and forth on a nauseating pendulum that lurches from joy (“someone bought it!”) to desperation (“the site just went down!”) every five minutes?

I’m not sure.

But I do know that I’ll likely never stop launching. And I hope you’ll consider launching alongside me.

We can be basket-cases together.

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June 2014 Issue