The Framework That Stopped Me From Setting the Same Goals (Again)

Last week I shared something uncomfortable: a brutally honest, AI-assisted review of my business years. £210 loss. 15 sales. £0.50 per hour. A 200:1 ratio of building to marketing.

I had built a shop where nobody walked by.

This week I had to set my 2026 goals.

And I couldn’t hide anymore.

The Pattern I Was About to Repeat

Here’s what I’ve done every January for years:

Set big ambitious goals. Revenue targets. Product roadmaps. Launch calendars. Growth projections. Yes, I love planning!

Then I would spend the year working hard, launched something, watch it underperform, and tell myself a story about what went wrong. Usually some version of “I just need to execute better next time.”

By December, I was ready to wipe the board clean and start planning again. I had conveniently forgotten the actual data. The 6 Instagram posts I called a pre-launch marketing plan. The 18 email subscribers. The fact that 93% of sales were to people who already knew me.

I would remember a softer version. A fairy tale version. “It was the first launch that underperformed. Not great, but a foundation to build on.”

Then I would set goals for the next year based on what I wanted to happen, not what the data suggested could happen.

2023: Built for 10 months → Posted 6 times → Launched to 18 subscribers → Sold to family → £210 loss

2024: “Learned lessons” → Built for 10 months → Posted 17 times → Launched to 23 subscribers → Sold to family again → Worse results

2025: Start planning collections 3 and 4…

Yes, I actually did that at the beginning of this year. And I was working on 2 collections because I thought not enough “new-ness” was my issue.

The Problem With Most Goal-Setting

After last week’s post, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had the data right there. Brutal and specific.

But I also still had dreams. I wanted £10,000 revenue. I wanted to build a library of digital products. I wanted Instagram to work because I see other people succeeding in that platform.

Most goal-setting advice tells you to either:

• Follow the data (set conservative goals, don’t repeat mistakes)

• Follow your dreams (think big, stay ambitious, manifest)

But neither of those alone actually works.

If I only followed my 2023-2024 data, I would have set such tiny goals it would be impossible to prove the business could work. “Maybe try to get 30 email subscribers this year” isn’t a strategy, it’s trauma response.

If I only followed my dreams, I would have set the exact same goals I have been setting for three years and wonder why December 2026 looks like December 2024.

I needed something that could hold both at once: the numbers, the reality, the patterns… and also the ambition, the dream version of the business, the part of me that wants more.

The framework has to let them fight it out.

What I Actually Did

I gathered everything:

From last week’s Year-in-Review:

• 200:1 building-to-marketing ratio

• 18 email subscribers at launch

• £0 from strangers across two years

• 60% sell-through on tea towels (the one thing that worked)

• Pattern: Build for months, barely post on social media, launch to nobody

My aspirational goals for 2026:

• £10,000 revenue (proves this is a real business, not hobby income)

• Build library of 10-12 digital products (multiple income streams)

• Try Instagram Reels (I see others succeeding with video)

• Launch two products by year-end

• Maybe get to 200+ email subscribers

My actual constraints:

• 10-15 hours per week until September 2027 (yes, I work during nap times.)

• No income pressure until then.

• Currently 8 Substack subscribers in Week 6

• Never maintained marketing consistency beyond 1 month

I fed all of it into Claude and asked: “Compare my data-driven insights with my aspirational goals. Where do they conflict? For each conflict, help me decide: Should I follow the data or test the aspiration? And if testing, how do I do it systematically?”

The Conflict That Changed Everything

The Tension:

Data: Never sold a digital product before. Pattern shows I build for months, discover nobody wants it.

Aspiration: Build a library of 10-12 workflow templates. Multiple income streams. Product inventory.

What the AI pointed out:

“You have never sold one digital product. Building 10-12 before testing the first is literally repeating the tea towel pattern. You built 48 SKU plans before selling 15 tea towels. You are about to do the same thing with workflows.”

FFS! It was right.

I could see myself doing it. Spending January-March building template 1, April-June building template 2, July getting template 3 ready... then launching all of them in September to my 40 email subscribers and wondering why nobody bought.

The reconciliation:

The AI walked me through it:

“Phase 1: Build ONE framework template from your best-performing Substack post.
Phase 2: Launch in March to your 25-35 subscribers. Goal = 5-10 sales.
Phase 3: If it sells, build a second. If it doesn’t sell, diagnose WHY before continuing.
Phase 4: Only build library AFTER proving first 2 products can sell.”

Test → Learn → Build → Test again.

Not Build → Build → Build some more→ Launch → Discover nobody cares.

What changed:

I still have the library goal. But now it’s conditional. It’s earned, not assumed.

The first product has to hit 10 sales before I touch product 2. No exceptions. No “but I have such good ideas for the second one.” No building while I’m avoiding the hard work of actually selling the first one.

This isn’t less ambitious. It’s strategically ambitious. It’s ambition that learns.

The Other Conflict I Couldn’t Ignore

The Tension:

Data: I’ve never made revenue from strangers. Zero pounds. My Substack audience is 8 subscribers. Instagram’s audience is mostly family and friends.

Aspiration: £10,000 revenue in 2026.

What the AI showed me:

“£10k requires approximately 200 digital product sales at £50 each, OR 2 retainer clients + 80 product sales, OR some combination. Your constraints: 10-15 hours/week, untested offers, audience of 8 that needs to grow to 100+. Pushing for £10k might create stress, shortcuts, compromised quality. You need proof more than impressive numbers.”

Then it asked: “What would minimum viable success actually look like?”

And I realized: £10k isn’t actually my goal. Proving strangers will pay is my goal.

The reconciliation:

Primary goal: £5,000 from strangers (proves the model works)
Stretch goal: £7,500 (if audience grows faster than expected)
Dream goal: £10,000 (only if everything breaks right)
Minimum viable success: £2,500 from strangers (enough to prove they’ll pay, covers tool costs)

If I make £5k in 2026 but it’s all from family = I FAILED.
If I make £2.5k in 2026 but it’s from 25 strangers who found me = I SUCCEEDED.

This completely changed what I’m optimizing for.

Not the number. The source of the number.

When data and dreams reconcile = Strategic Goal-Setting for next year.

What This Framework Actually Does

It makes your data and dreams reconcile. You are making strategic choices based on aspiration and data.

For every conflict, you’re forced to answer:

• Why does the data contradict the aspiration?

• What would it take to test the aspiration systematically?

• What are the kill criteria if the test fails?

• What does the data already support that you’re ignoring?

The strategy lives in that gap. Between what happened and what you want. When you force them to defend themselves against each other instead of pretending one doesn’t exist.

What I ended up with:

Not crushed by past failure. Not ignoring it either.

Goals I can actually defend:

• 52 weeks of consistent Substack posts (leading indicator I control)

• 100 email subscribers by December (solves the core 2023-2024 problem)

• First product launched March 2026 with clear success criteria

• £5k revenue, minimum £2.5k, from strangers

• Second product only if first one sells

And decision points at every stage:

• End of March: Did the first product hit 10 sales? If yes → build the second. If not → diagnose.

• End of June: Am I at £1,500-2,500 revenue? 60-70 subscribers? If not → what needs to change?

• End of December: Did I hit £5k from strangers? If yes → scale 2027. If not → honest diagnosis.

This is different from “I’ll try harder this time.”

This is: “Here’s what the data supports. Here’s what I’m testing anyway. Here’s how I’ll know if the test worked. Here’s when I’ll stop if it doesn’t.”

The Framework (What You Can Try)

You don’t need all 8 steps I went through. Start with this:

1. Gather your data AND your dreams

Pull your Year-in-Review data (if you haven’t done this, here is the link to the post with that framework I Built a Shop on a Street Where Nobody Walked).
Write down what you want anyway, regardless of data.
Both matter. Stop pretending one doesn’t exist.

2. Identify the conflicts

Where do they contradict?
Where does last year’s pattern directly conflict with next year’s goals?
That’s where you’re lying to yourself.

3. Reconcile with criteria, not hope

Don’t just “follow the data” or “follow your dreams.”
For each conflict, create an experiment:

• What would it take to test this aspiration?

• What are the success metrics?

• What’s the kill criteria if it fails?

• What timeline makes sense?

4. Set goals you can defend

If someone asked “why £5k?” or “why 100 subscribers?” you should have a data-backed answer.
Not vibes. Not “feels right.” Actual reasoning.

The goals that survive this process are the ones worth pursuing.

What Happens Next

I’m six weeks into testing these frameworks on my own business. This is the second one: Strategic Goal-Setting.

Still to test:

• Goal Reality Check (can I actually do this with 10-15 hours/week?)

• Timeline Builder (what happens quarter by quarter?)

• Scenario Planning (best case / worst case / most likely)

• Revenue Validation (is £5k actually feasible with my constraints?)

Each one gets tested on my real business, with real data, and I documented as I go.

This isn’t theory. It’s what I’m actually doing to rebuild a creative business that works within the constraints of parenting two small children, after spending two years proving what doesn’t work.

The uncomfortable part? I can’t hide from the results. Whatever happens in 2026, the data will tell the real story.

But at least this time, the goals I’m chasing actually make sense.

If you want to try this yourself, you’ll need your Year-in-Review data first. Pull everything: revenue, time spent, audience size, what sold, what didn’t. Then write down what you want for next year, even if it contradicts the data.

The magic happens when you force them to reconcile instead of ignoring the conflict.

That’s where your actual strategy lives.

This post originally appeared in my Substack newsletter. Subscribe for weekly updates.