“I hate salespeople,” the man said, crossing his arms. He leaned back in his chair, his expression a wall of pure skepticism.
My heart pounded in my chest. I was new to selling books, and honestly, I hated it too. I felt like a fraud, a pushy imposter trying to talk people into spending money. Every time I had to tell someone I was a “salesman,” I felt a wave of embarrassment. Weren’t all salespeople liars?
That one difficult conversation, with that one hostile customer, was the moment I almost quit. Instead, it became the most important education of my life.
The “Salesman” I Was Afraid to Be
When I started my career as an employee, my old boss used to say, “Sell today, build your future tomorrow.” I would just nod, but inside, I rejected the idea completely. I wanted to be successful, but I didn’t want to be that guy.
I came from a world of books and ideas. I wanted to help people, to share knowledge. The word “sales” felt dirty, manipulative.
So, when I walked into that man’s office to sell him a collection of business books for his team, I was already defeated. I launched into my scripted pitch, talking about features and benefits. With every word, his arms crossed tighter. He wasn’t just uninterested; he was annoyed. I could feel the sale—and my own confidence—slipping away.
I was failing, and I knew it. The thought of walking out of that room empty-handed, proving all my own doubts right, was humiliating.
The Turning Point: When I Stopped Selling
In that moment of desperation, something shifted. My script was useless. My pitch was failing. I had nothing left to lose.
So I stopped selling.
Forgetting all the techniques I’d been taught, I looked at him and asked a simple, honest question:
“It sounds like you’ve had some really bad experiences with salespeople. Can you tell me what problem you’re actually trying to solve for your team right now?”
The question hung in the air. For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then, slowly, he uncrossed his arms.
“My team is young,” he said, his voice softening. “They’re motivated, but they’re scared to take risks. They don’t have the right mindset.”
He talked for the next ten minutes. He didn’t talk about books; he talked about his people, his hopes for the company, his frustrations. I just listened.
When he finished, I didn’t point to a stack of books and say, “You should buy these.” Instead, I picked out just two. “Based on what you’ve told me,” I said, “I think these two books on mindset and resilience might actually help your team. The others aren’t right for you.”
He bought a hundred copies of each. He became one of my best clients for the next five years.
The Real Lessons I Learned That Day
That conversation didn’t just earn me a commission; it changed my entire career. I walked out of that office a different person. I had finally learned the real skills a salesperson—and an entrepreneur—actually needs.
- You’re a Problem-Solver, Not a Pitchman. I didn’t make the sale until I stopped pitching and started listening. The customer didn’t care about my product; he cared about his problem. The moment I started caring about his problem too, I wasn’t a salesman anymore. I was a consultant. I was a partner.
- You Have to Genuinely Care About Your Customer. My empathy for his past bad experiences is what opened the door. By acknowledging his frustration instead of ignoring it, I showed him I was on his side. Business isn’t a battle to be won; it’s a relationship to be built.
- You Must Believe in Your Product. I was able to confidently recommend those two specific books because I had actually read them. I knew they weren’t just “products”; they were real solutions to the exact problem he was describing. You cannot sell something you don’t believe in—at least not for long.
- You Need Mental Toughness. Walking into that room was scary. Facing his hostility was hard. The easy thing would have been to leave at the first sign of resistance. But true salespeople have thick skin. They have the courage to stay in a tough conversation long enough to find a real connection.
The Future I Decided to Build
That day, I finally understood what my boss meant. “Selling” wasn’t about tricking people. It was about earning the right to solve their problems.
I still sell books today as the founder of Wardoh Books. But I never feel embarrassed about it. Because I know that at its best, selling is an act of service.
If you’re out there, afraid of selling, I get it. But remember: everyone is already selling something. The only question is whether you’ll do it with honesty, empathy, and a genuine desire to help.
What’s your relationship with “selling”? Is it something you’re afraid of? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.
