Listings used to be the best gift a realtor could get. (Usually from a divorcing couple — one selling, one buying. Sad, but true.) You'd throw it in the MLS — let's be honest, I've never actually done that myself — and by dinner you had multiple offers. The job was a cakewalk. Every agent wanted a listing.
Fast forward to today.
Listings make me nervous now. When I list a house, it feels like waiting on a verdict from a jury made up entirely of my exes — the ones who've seen me naked and weren't impressed. Picking a list price feels vulnerable in a way it never used to.
Case in point: I had a listing in my own neighborhood, under $200K. The data said it would move faster than the Klumps seeing a tray at a buffet refill. I'd walked that neighborhood every day for ten years. I was more confident than a dad bod that just scored a touchdown in rec league flag football.
It sat longer than the 1,000 pound sisters. Two showings. Three open houses. One neighborhood regular who wandered in for the AC. I was floored — great listing, genuinely affordable, and nobody wanted it. Thankfully I had great sellers who ended up renting it out instead, and they couldn't have been cooler about the whole thing. But that listing knocked something loose in me. Ten years of walking that block, all the comps in the world, and I couldn't have sold that house if my life depended on it.
So what happened?
Here's the problem with comps: they're a photograph of the past, and we're trying to use them like a crystal ball. Comps tell you what buyers were willing to pay a few months ago — they don't tell you what buyers are willing to pay right now, with rates still climbing, the world feeling like it's one headline from falling apart, and half the country convinced AI is coming for their job next. The data isn't wrong. It's just late.
So how do I move forward? Honestly — I still feel like a bitch every time I list something. I fake it till I make it. I pull comps like everyone else, look at the real days-on-market number for that price point, and put it all in front of the seller, unfiltered. Right now that means preparing them for the possibility their house sits a while with no action — which is becoming the norm at certain price points, not the exception.
I also tell them not to chase the market down by dropping the price the second it goes quiet. Their response is usually some version of "are you a crack baby?" Then I show them the data on the listings that did chase price — the ones cutting $5K every three weeks that ended up selling for less than if they'd just held their number and waited it out. That usually ends the conversation.
At the end of the day, it's their house and their call. My job is just to make the decision as informed — and as painless — as I can.
Maybe that's the real takeaway: listing a house right now is a lot like dating again after a divorce. You don't know who's going to want you, the old scorecard doesn't apply anymore, and your plumbing has been inactive for awhile, so you are nervous about the inspection. Communicate well, be patient and don’t panic. It will all work out in the long run.
Send this to someone who needs to laugh, cry or feel like an alpha. Use the link below and see how much money I made my first five years in the business. 👇 👇 👇 👇