when I started in real estate the primary way I learned how to generate leads was through open houses. 80% of buyers that go into open houses are unrepresented. and alongside learning how to break down walls and earn trust in less than five minutes, I was taught to focus on buyers with a quick timeline.
but some stories take the long way home don’t they. it’s been a process of unlearning urgency and embracing stewarding. identifying where there is self sabotage in finding a new home and where they actually just aren’t finding the right fit.
I met this couple at an open house in October…just a casual pop-in on their way to a birthday party. their kiddos running wild as kids under 4 tend to do and their calm demeanor in the chaos winning me over. we chatted like old friends relating on motherhood, the tenets of home and what they were looking for. no pressure. no urgency. just curiosity.
they reached out afterwards and asked me to help them find the home that would serve their next chapter…they were drawn to the idea of renovating something old with good bones and loads of potential. something with walls that told old stories and floors that sang their favorite melodies as you walked. we found a home in the Heights – owned by the original family, a home passed down through generations with classic charm and room to dream. multiple offers, we went under contract. hopes rose. plans formed. and then…the inspection.
so much was worse than expected. the cost to make it right and to make it livable, beautiful and theirs was just too much. we terminated and it felt like a door closing hard. but here’s the thing with old doors, sometimes they creak back open.
the pull of place
as we continued to look, something subtle started surfacing…the homes we saw more than checked the boxes of square footage, yard space, and all the things they said were a must.
but the one thing unaddressed was their block. their people. the park down the street where their kids had learned to ride bikes. where they had community at 5 o’clock on a Tuesday and Saturdays at 9. the life they’d already built in their current neighborhood was sending up roots around their feet and asking them to stay.
sometimes we think we want change when what we really want is a different version of what we already have.
the failed contract wasn’t a setback, but a revelation and each house we saw became a mirror, reflecting back what they really valued. community over square footage. familiarity over novelty. the irreplaceable comfort of home ground.
when grace shows up
and then, just like grace, a coming soon sign showed up in the yard of their favorite house in the neighborhood. the one they always noticed on evening walks and swooned over as they peaked through the wrought iron fence to decipher what was growing in the garden. the sunflowers that waved at them hello. the turquoise window trim against the dark brick smiling under the 100 year oak in the front yard. the sunroom on the left side of the house two stories tall.
this was it.
another multiple offer battle and we intentionally joined the ranks. we weren’t the highest but we led with communication, clarity, and care. and the seller chose us. they appreciated that my clients lived in the neighborhood too, understood the charm, the history and the soul of home.
in a market where highest offer usually wins, connection had the last word here.
the timing of it all
this sweet family closes next week and I couldn’t be more ecstatic.
their current home? just went under contract with multiple offers in only a few days. the market that seemed impossible in October opened up for them with ease and confirmation.
this is what I’ve learned about timing in real estate, and in life: waiting isn’t wasted. it reveals and clarifies. it strengthens and tunes us into the right yeses. the months between October and now were full of understanding, of watching and discovering, of a hope for something held onto so tightly through struggle it became a knowing.
had I just started in real estate, my urgency would have missed it all.
in our culture of instant everything, waiting feels like failure or sometimes, falling behind. like you missed your chance. but what if waiting is just sifting? what if those steady seasons that don’t check our boxes of achievement are when life is working hard behind the scenes arranging pieces and people, preparing the stage for something better than what you originally planned?
my clients could have settled for any number of houses during those months. they could have compromised on location or convinced themselves that leaving their neighborhood was what they needed to do in order to find what they were looking for.
the reality: leaning into curiosity was the right posture for actively waiting.
the long way home
and now we are back to the beginning…some stories take the long way home.
not because they’re uncertain…but because they’re meant for discovering and for knowing. for becoming a culmination of clarity, our new home ground of confirmation that says, “you landed in the right spot…you’re meant to be here.”
the timing that seemed so frustrating in October now feels like a perfect orchestration of kindred spirits.
let this be your reminder: sometimes the detour is the point. the waiting is the gift. the long way home is the right way home.
what are you waiting for right now? what if, instead of rushing toward an answer, you trusted the steady season to do its work?
but some stories take the long way home don’t they. it’s been a process of unlearning urgency and embracing stewarding. identifying where there is self sabotage in finding a new home and where they actually just aren’t finding the right fit.
I met this couple at an open house in October…just a casual pop-in on their way to a birthday party. their kiddos running wild as kids under 4 tend to do and their calm demeanor in the chaos winning me over. we chatted like old friends relating on motherhood, the tenets of home and what they were looking for. no pressure. no urgency. just curiosity.
they reached out afterwards and asked me to help them find the home that would serve their next chapter…they were drawn to the idea of renovating something old with good bones and loads of potential. something with walls that told old stories and floors that sang their favorite melodies as you walked. we found a home in the Heights – owned by the original family, a home passed down through generations with classic charm and room to dream. multiple offers, we went under contract. hopes rose. plans formed. and then…the inspection.
so much was worse than expected. the cost to make it right and to make it livable, beautiful and theirs was just too much. we terminated and it felt like a door closing hard. but here’s the thing with old doors, sometimes they creak back open.
the pull of place
as we continued to look, something subtle started surfacing…the homes we saw more than checked the boxes of square footage, yard space, and all the things they said were a must.
but the one thing unaddressed was their block. their people. the park down the street where their kids had learned to ride bikes. where they had community at 5 o’clock on a Tuesday and Saturdays at 9. the life they’d already built in their current neighborhood was sending up roots around their feet and asking them to stay.
sometimes we think we want change when what we really want is a different version of what we already have.
the failed contract wasn’t a setback, but a revelation and each house we saw became a mirror, reflecting back what they really valued. community over square footage. familiarity over novelty. the irreplaceable comfort of home ground.
when grace shows up
and then, just like grace, a coming soon sign showed up in the yard of their favorite house in the neighborhood. the one they always noticed on evening walks and swooned over as they peaked through the wrought iron fence to decipher what was growing in the garden. the sunflowers that waved at them hello. the turquoise window trim against the dark brick smiling under the 100 year oak in the front yard. the sunroom on the left side of the house two stories tall.
this was it.
another multiple offer battle and we intentionally joined the ranks. we weren’t the highest but we led with communication, clarity, and care. and the seller chose us. they appreciated that my clients lived in the neighborhood too, understood the charm, the history and the soul of home.
in a market where highest offer usually wins, connection had the last word here.
the timing of it all
this sweet family closes next week and I couldn’t be more ecstatic.
their current home? just went under contract with multiple offers in only a few days. the market that seemed impossible in October opened up for them with ease and confirmation.
this is what I’ve learned about timing in real estate, and in life: waiting isn’t wasted. it reveals and clarifies. it strengthens and tunes us into the right yeses. the months between October and now were full of understanding, of watching and discovering, of a hope for something held onto so tightly through struggle it became a knowing.
had I just started in real estate, my urgency would have missed it all.
in our culture of instant everything, waiting feels like failure or sometimes, falling behind. like you missed your chance. but what if waiting is just sifting? what if those steady seasons that don’t check our boxes of achievement are when life is working hard behind the scenes arranging pieces and people, preparing the stage for something better than what you originally planned?
my clients could have settled for any number of houses during those months. they could have compromised on location or convinced themselves that leaving their neighborhood was what they needed to do in order to find what they were looking for.
the reality: leaning into curiosity was the right posture for actively waiting.
the long way home
and now we are back to the beginning…some stories take the long way home.
not because they’re uncertain…but because they’re meant for discovering and for knowing. for becoming a culmination of clarity, our new home ground of confirmation that says, “you landed in the right spot…you’re meant to be here.”
the timing that seemed so frustrating in October now feels like a perfect orchestration of kindred spirits.
let this be your reminder: sometimes the detour is the point. the waiting is the gift. the long way home is the right way home.
what are you waiting for right now? what if, instead of rushing toward an answer, you trusted the steady season to do its work?
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