Sometimes My Job Is to Tell You the Thing You Don't Want to Hear
By DeAnna Murphy
What it really means when your Realtor pushes back on you mid-deal.
The moment a client thinks I've switched sides
There's a specific look a client gives me when I say something they weren't ready for. The jaw tightens. The arms cross a little. And I can almost hear the thought forming behind their eyes: whose side is she on, anyway?
I've learned not to flinch at that look. As a Realtor, I was hired to do one thing. Get the home sold, or get the home bought, and keep the deal together long enough to get there. That's the job. And the job sometimes requires me to say the thing that lands wrong in the moment.
Maybe it's that the price they love isn't the price the market loves. Maybe it's that the counteroffer they want to send is going to blow up a deal that's already fragile. When I say it plainly, it can feel to them like I've wandered over to the other side of the table.
I haven't. I'm standing exactly where I was hired to stand. The hard truth I'm handing them is the whole reason they brought me in. It just doesn't feel that way when it's your house, your money, and your nerves on the line.
Keeping a deal together is harder than winning an argument
Anyone can agree with a client. It's the easiest thing in the world. Nod along, tell them the number is great, tell them the other side will cave, and let the deal fall apart later when reality shows up.
I'd rather have the uncomfortable conversation early. A deal is a living thing. It has a dozen points where it can quietly die, and most of those points are emotional long before they're financial. Somebody feels slighted. Somebody digs in on a number out of pride. Somebody hears a piece of feedback and decides to make it personal.
My job is to keep all of that from killing the transaction. That often means I'm the one saying, let's not send that. Let's wait a day. Let's give a little here so we don't lose everything there.
From where my client sits, it can look like I'm not fighting hard enough for them. What I'm actually doing is protecting the outcome they told me they wanted. Winning a single exchange and losing the whole deal is no win at all. I'd rather lose a small argument today and hand you your keys next month.
Trust is what makes the hard truth land
Here's what I've come to understand after enough of these conversations. The hard message only works if the client trusts the person delivering it.
If you think I'm in this for a quick commission, every piece of tough advice sounds like me nudging you toward a faster close. If you believe I'm genuinely trying to get you to your goal, that same advice sounds like what it is: me doing the job you hired me for.
So I try to earn that trust before I ever need to spend it. I tell clients at the start that there will be moments where I say something they won't love, and that when those moments come, it means I'm doing my work, not abandoning it. I'd rather set that expectation on day one than surprise them with it mid-deal.
When a client feels that I'm steady and honest even when it costs me their comfort, the hard truths stop feeling like betrayals. They start feeling like guidance. That's the whole game. A client who trusts me will follow me through a difficult negotiation. A client who doesn't will fight me the whole way and wonder later why it fell apart. The uncomfortable conversation is the service. It always was.