Why I Love Selling Residential Real Estate

Several years back I took a particuarly reflective trip to my hometown of Phoenix, Az. I was at a crossroads in my adult life. I was assessing and revaluating. What did I want the rest of my life to look like? I knew that I wanted to be of service and I knew that I wanted to make a difference in the lives of hardworking people.

I decided to drive by the house in which I grew up.

When I pulled up to the house, I noticed the front door was open. I decided to go up and knock on the screen door. A short, older gay man came to greet me. His expression was kind and welcoming. Before I could finish explaining who I was and why I was there, he invited me in, somehow sensing how important this was to me. Without prompting and completely unexpectedly, I cried.

Suddenly it was December, 1980 and my family and me were putting up the Christmas tree. It was an artificial tree from JC Pennys and it was older than I was. The color coded tips of the branches were barely visible from years of assembly. I could see my new bicycle under the tree, pieced together with parts handed down from my older brothers. It was all my mother could afford and it was all I could do to contain my excitement.

I could see my dog Buster rushing to greet me. He was given to me on Christmas morning in the 3rd grade. I had begged my Mom for a puppy that year and she desparately tried to refuse. On her way to work on Christmas Eve, she stopped by the grocery store to pick up something for she and the other nurses to eat that evening. Outside of the store were free puppies to anyone who would take them. I suppose it was divine inspiration that caused my mom to take him that night. She brought Buster, a six week old mut to the hospital that night in a cardboard box, determined to bring her youngest daughter this little creature. She and the other nurses had to take turns watching over him, trying in vain to keep him quiet. On Christmas morning, 1980, my Mom brought Buster into our lives, where he would remain a loyal companion for the next 15 years.

I could hear my friends and me filling the house with laughter, splashing in the pool and listening to pop music on my boombox. I could see a younger version of my mother moving through the house, doing the best she could with little money and little sleep.

Walking in the front door brought back memories all at once difficult and crushing, triumphant and inspirational. This was more than just a house. This was all that I am.

It was that afternoon that I decided that I must become a Realtor. I understood that houses were more than just bricks and mortar. They are part of who we are. They provide shelter to more than just our physical selves.

This is why I feel such tremendous gratitude for my career. To navigate people through the purchase or sale of a home is an intimate experience. To be a part of it is one of the greatest gifts life has given me.

All the Best- Dori