Wife of a Realtor...

I confess. I always thought Realtors “had it made.” And since my husband became a Realtor, we've heard that same cliché over and over again. People think you earn lots of money for arranging the sale of property between two people. And they actually believe it's easy money -- down hill all the way once you get the listing. You drive a fancy car and appear independently wealthy. Some even think you took up the career for the fun of it. “So…you're retired now!” (Common response when you take on the career at age 50 or older.)

I confess, I had that envious feeling several years ago when we sold a home on 20 acres of land in the country with a six-year old, very nice house. It sold in two days. I spent weeks “preparing it for viewing” by cleaning out closets, having rummage sales, and packing away “stuff”. Then I took pictures of the flower gardens in their prime, all the rooms in the tidiest condition, and even made a handout with all the features of our home. And I called the agent, asking her to bring a contract and list the house. The ink on the sales agreement was barely dry when she stuck the sign on the lawn and we got an offer at 11:00 p.m. that same evening. The prospective buyer didn't view the house, but got a verbal tour from a friend of ours and was determined to purchase it immediately. Within two days, the deal was closed. The agent walked away with over $17,000 -- what we thought was “easy money.”

That was before my husband made a major career change about a year ago. Studying and passing the licensing exam were the easy part of taking up a new career as a “Realtor”. The cautions were clear: Be prepared to live off your savings for a year; it takes time to build up a client base. Expect to “pay” for your mistakes, literally. Expect to be “the messenger” and the bearer of uncomfortable news and situations. Expect deals to fall through even when you did your best to “save” negotiations. Expect to meet every kind of personality you can imagine -- and many at their worst! Expect long hours. Expect the unexpected. Expect to take Rolaids on a regular basis.

When the Rolaids began, my husband's stamina and good nature still continued. He flattered me by saying, “Why don't you get your license, and we can do this together?” My stomach has enough problems already, so I turned him down with words of encouragement, “You do such a good job at it. No, thanks, one of us needs a 'real' job.”

I admit the first year was a learning experience -- identified by a popular name “the school of hard knocks.” What we've learned is that being a new Realtor involves the whole family; it's a family career because everyone is affected with new schedules, new interruptions, and a flurry of up and down emotions. Although I'm not privy to the confidentiality of his customer negotiations, it's that “womanly instinct” that can sense the tension when something isn't going as smoothly as planned. “Is there ever a deal made that goes without a flaw?” I wonder.

The number of phone calls at home have increased ten-fold. What once was a quiet evening is now pebbled with interruptions. The video tape we may be watching gets put on pause and rewind so often, it makes you dizzy. We leave business cards with everyone we meet. And everyone you knew before can't believe you made such a career change. For recreation, we drive around neighborhoods looking for “For Sale By Owner” signs. We carry a cell phone on weekends away. We accept every invitation with the condition, “unless …”. These are “conditions of employment” for being a self-employed (hungry) business person. If you don't work, you don't get paid.

I confess...I'm always anxious to see his commission check... when he gets one. (It's that satisfied smile of accomplishment that makes him feel so good!) Unless you get lucky in your early days as a Realtor, the commission checks are few and far between. They have been as little as $100 for hours and hours of work. And out of that check comes all expenses like the $250 monthly cell phone bill, the tanks and tanks of gasoline, the $300-$500 license fees that seem like we just paid them, the hundreds of dollars in advertising, the computer equipment and supplies that help you do your job, the fast-food meals because you don't have time to go home and eat, and of course, the Rolaids!

Also, guess what? Another insurance deduction from our checking account (insurance to cover whatever it is that can go wrong). And, we can't forget about Uncle Sam…he gets a whopping one-third if you can afford to set it aside for estimated tax. And what about sales “SPIFS?” Vacations, wine and dining, and lots of golf. (There's plenty of spare time. Listings are pouring in with no effort at all.) Oops, we forgot the benefits: no health insurance, no dental insurance, and no company sponsored 401K plan. For 60 plus hours a week, the per hourly rate looks pretty pitiful. Yep, being a Realtor is a glamorous job! We're still waiting for the big payoff...a commission check that can support us over the cold winter months ahead.

Life is about change and lessons. (My husband always reminds me that I preach that concept consistently.) And, I confess there are lessons in this career change that are good for us. One lesson is self-identity and self-esteem. You are “the company”. There's a marvelous sense of pride in being “you” and establishing your own standards for customer service.

Another big lesson is humility. (Yikes, I thought we had enough of those lessons already.) Humility comes in frequent doses. You are immediately humbled when your own home is on the market for months and you can't sell it. You try all the “tricks of the trade” like bonuses, open houses, and reduced pricing -- and you sit waiting for the one “right” buyer. It's humbling when your “client” finds a great house with another agent's name on the sign and buys it from him or her. It's humbling when you do the market analysis and convince the seller that “it's a good time to sell”; and then they list with another agent because he drives a bigger car, or his name is more familiar, or he assured you that he could get “more” for your house if you listed with him. It's humbling when the seller settles for less than market value just to get out of debt. It's humbling when a deal falls through because of financing (or a multitude of other reasons) and the prospective buyer has to give up a “dream.” It's humbling when divorce, death or old age prevents a homeowner from living in the home they've cherished for years.

There are times I think about the “sales job he used to have” and wonder: “Which was worse?” And I realized that this career change wasn't about getting rich, or driving a fancy car, or coaching people to buy (or sell) something. It was about my husband -- his needs as an individual to use the talents he has and try something new. It was about him being independent and planning his own future, not someone planning it for him. It was a career change about “helping people” in a different kind of way. My Realtor outgrew what he did before and stepped up to the challenge of doing something different.

Being a Realtor is about people -- and my husband is good with people. People selling and buying homes are making one of life's toughest choices. They are either spending money or trying to meet their tight budget demands by selling something valuable to them. It's not just a house -- it's a history. It has memories -- both happy and sad. And when you entrust your personal asset to someone, you are sharing a little bit of your spirit. When my Realtor works with people, he's honest and involved. He understands compassion because we've experienced our own setbacks in life. He can call upon his excellent common sense to find creative solutions. He uses humor to lighten the mood when things get terse; and he finds a positive outcome for even the most stressful situations.

I'm learning to be supportive when the sales are lean and the listings fall short. I look forward to the phone calls. I accept the interrupted movies, the cancellation of planned activities, and dinners re-warmed in the oven. I know weekends are “subject to change.” Intuitively I believe everything will work out because my Realtor husband is not a “quitter”. When he goes to bed, most nights, he's content. He falls into a deep, restful sleep. It was a full day. He did his job to the best of his ability, and, between snores, he's fueling up for the next dawn.

And yes, maybe someday he'll drive the fancy car, have extra cash to spend, and chuckle when people think “he's retired.” I confess…it's a career that brings out the best in him.