You Can Stop Apologizing to Your Realtor

The first listing I ever earned on my own had an OnlyFans studio in the attic.

Or maybe it was a sex dungeon.

Honestly, I never quite figured out where one ended and the other began.

I've had sellers convinced they heard reindeer on the roof, only to discover it was a buyer's inspector—sent after the inspection window had closed, without telling anyone—to take another look at the roof.

I've had a listing agent proudly and inappropriately tell my buyers, "Oh, and they brought their little gay dog too." Not as a joke. Not as a Wizard of Oz reference. Just as a sentence she apparently felt belonged in a professional real estate conversation.

Welcome to real estate.

When you spend your career working in housing, you don't just work with houses.

You work with humanity. Every version of it.

Over the years, I've worked with artists, engineers, musicians, surgeons, lawyers, teachers, retirees, entrepreneurs, first-time buyers, fifth-time sellers, people caring for aging parents, people rebuilding after divorce, people grieving, people celebrating, people starting over, people with pregnancy hormones coursing through every fiber of their being—and yes, I've represented clients while I was very pregnant too.

Some describe themselves as neurodivergent. Some don't. Some are anxious. Some are avoidant. Some need to think out loud. Some need complete silence before making a decision. Some arrive with color-coded spreadsheets. Others couldn't find their purchase agreement if it were stapled to their forehead. Some simply don't want to be defined at all.

A client recently described another client as "a little neurospicy."

It made me laugh.

Then it hit me right between the eyes.

Because after hundreds of transactions, I've realized something. Buying and selling property has a way of turning the volume up on whatever already exists. It's emotional. It's expensive. It's uncertain. It's one of the biggest decisions most of us will ever make, wrapped up in memories, identity, timing, family, and hope. Even the calmest among us get a little... spicy sometimes.

And the funny thing is, almost everyone apologizes for it.

"I'm sorry I ask so many questions."

"I'm sorry I overthink."

"I'm sorry I need to talk this through."

"I'm sorry I keep changing my mind."

"I'm sorry if I'm being difficult."

You don't have to apologize.

Not to me.

I've never met two clients who communicate the same way, process information the same way, make decisions the same way, remember details the same way, or want the exact same outcome.

I've also never met two homes that fit neatly into a box.

The irony isn't lost on me.

The MLS is an incredible tool for organizing information.

It's a terrible way to fully understand a home.

For some reason, ever since we started cataloging data, we've been trying to organize people the same way. Neurotypical. Neurodivergent. Introvert. Extrovert. Anxious. Avoidant. Visual learner. Auditory learner. Democrat. Republican. Millennial. Boomer.

Those labels have real merit. They help us study patterns, find community, and sometimes finally give someone language for an experience they've been trying to describe their whole life. But they also have limits. A label meant to describe a group of people can never fully or adequately describe a single person, just as no MLS box—or combination of them—has ever adequately described a home.

That's why we don't start with labels.

We start with people.

And that's why curiosity matters more than assumptions.

When someone tells me they're looking for something affordable, I don't automatically assign a price tag to that.

Affordability is relative to the person, their circumstances, their season of life, and how long they expect to own the home.

When someone tells me they want a neighborhood that's safe, I ask another question.

"Can you tell me more about that?" "I'd love to understand what safe feels like to you."

I've had clients tell me they want to leave their purse on the passenger seat, forget to lock the front door, and never think twice about it. I've had others tell me, "I don't care if bullets fly down the street as long as they don't come through my front door. I just want a great investment."

Point being, I don't pretend my interpretation of your words is fact.

The same thing goes for walkability.

What does that mean to you?

Does it mean flat sidewalks?

Saying hello to neighbors on their porches?

Streetlights after dark?

Walking your dog at all hours?

Being able to walk to something delicious?

Walking shoulder to shoulder with friends instead of single file?

Every buyer uses similar words.

Rarely do they mean the same thing.

The same thing goes for sellers.

"I'm willing to do some work."

Okay. Tell me what some work looks like.

Painting?

Packing?

Replacing a roof?

Do you have a budget in mind?

Is this something you'd like to do yourself?

Would you like referrals?

Would you like project management?

That's why you'll hear us ask questions that don't sound much like real estate.

How do you take your coffee?

Where do you usually get it?

What does an average Tuesday afternoon look like for you?

Are you at the office? Working from home? Entertaining clients? Sleeping off Monday night's restaurant shift?

Beneath every one of those questions is the same goal: understanding how you make decisions, what matters to you, and how you naturally process information. Do you think out loud? Do you prefer all the information first or the headline version? Would you rather read it, see it, or talk it through?

Those aren't icebreakers.

They're a show of respect.

Because understanding someone isn't a soft skill.

It's the work.

Almost all of it.

That philosophy is also why we've spent the better part of the last year writing comprehensive guides for our buyers and sellers. Not the kind you download from Etsy, swap out the logo, and call proprietary. Real guides. The kind that explain what's coming before it happens so you can read ahead, anticipate what's next, and know which questions to ask before you're expected to ask them.

Before these guides, we were only as good at answering questions as our clients were at knowing which questions to ask.

And that put everyone at a disadvantage.

Inside them you'll find why negotiations unfold the way they do, what makes buying and selling in New Orleans and Louisiana so unique, how to gain an advantage without sacrificing your integrity, and why the other side might be behaving the way they are. Spoiler alert: they're probably not trying to pull one over on you.

They're probably just a little neurospicy too.

We know emotions tend to show up at every stage of a transaction.

We also know how to recognize when you're reacting from stress instead of strategy—and, more importantly, how to help you get back to your why. Because informed clients make calmer decisions. Calmer decisions usually become better decisions. Better decisions almost always lead to better outcomes.

None of this means we're people pleasers. In fact, we're pretty allergic to people pleasing. Healthy boundaries matter. Truth matters. Sometimes my job is to tell a client something they don't want to hear—not because I enjoy difficult conversations, but because my job is to protect their best interests.

How do I know what those interests are?

Go back to the beginning of this article.

It starts by getting curious.

That's how I know when it's in someone's best interest to walk away, to hold on, or to stop negotiating and run all the way to the bank—do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Curiosity isn't agreement. It's refusing to make assumptions, because that's where the mother of all mix-ups tends to happen. We choose to understand someone before deciding how to help them. I think it's one of the reasons our profession struggles with trust. It's easier to agree than it is to get curious. It's easier to tell someone what they want to hear than to ask one more question.

And the truth is, I've never met anyone who decided to get their real estate license because they thought it would be hard. But good work usually is hard work. That's why so many people avoid it. It's also what makes it rewarding. What I've come to learn is that curiosity almost always creates the better outcome.

I'll choose the better outcome every time.

So come as you are. Seriously.

If you're the person who apologizes for asking one more question, I'll allow it.

If you're the person who needs to talk it through, let's chat.

If you're the person who wants the long explanation instead of the headline, let's schedule the time.

If you're the person who's never quite felt like they fit neatly into the way most things are done—much less real estate—you're exactly the type of person I'd love to sit across from.

And if you're curious about those buyer and seller guides, they're still in draft form, but I'm always happy to share them. They've become one of my favorite things we've ever created because they replace uncertainty with understanding. That's a trade I'll make every day of the week.

Let's start with curiosity.

Everything else, we'll figure out together.

We've been saving you a seat.

Bring the spice.

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Celebrated for her next-level creative approach to real estate, Elisa Cool Murphy is the author of Prepped to Sell: What Works Even When the Market Doesn't. She is an award-winning, top-performing real estate broker in New Orleans and the founder and owner of Cool Murphy Real Estate.

You can learn more about her here.

Contact Her -

email: cool@coolmurphy.com

Facebook: @homeinneworleans

IG: @coolmurphynola

YouTube: @coolmurphynola

phone: 504-321-3194