I've Always Hated Sales

On choosing authenticity over scale

Previously published Jan 27, 2026

I’ve always hated sales. When I was in college, I worked at a Gap store for a bit and was good at it—and felt uncomfortable every day. It felt manipulative to try to get people to buy something so I could make a small commission. So I didn’t. I tried to be helpful but let people decide on their own what they wanted to buy, if anything. At the time, I thought this was just a quirk of my personality. I didn't realize it was pointing to something deeper.

I know now that some salespeople take a similar approach. They believe a hard sell is often counterproductive and that if people feel respected and cared for, they are more likely to come back and recommend the store to others, even if they bought nothing initially. It’s about the relationship with the potential customer.

I avoided “salesy” jobs over the years, though being an activist and leader of a non-profit clearly crossed that line. My aversion to sales came up in fundraising. Initially, I felt extreme discomfort trying to convince people to “give” us money. Fortunately, one of our leading activists gave me a tutorial on fundraising and shifted my paradigm. She told me that most people I would be asking for money would be donating money to one or more causes that year. I was helping them make sure it went to an organization worthy of their support and where the emotional returns would be substantial. It was a cause and an organization I had given up my career over and was dedicating my time and money to as well. I was trying to help them feel the same sense of satisfaction I was experiencing. Mind blown.

Now, two decades later, here I am: an entrepreneur—something I never thought I would say! And I need to “market” my business. So I post on social media, take seminars and workshops on marketing and scaling my coaching business, listen to podcasts on small business marketing.

At first, I leaned into it. I’ve coached in various settings for years—I enjoy it and I’m good at it. Sure, I work on my professional development as a coach: reading, listening, taking workshops. But my real area of potential growth, my discomfort zone, has been on the business and marketing side. I saw that as an exciting opportunity to stretch and learn.

But the more I learned, the more I found myself following the trends, doing what I “should” do according to the experts and gurus, and feeling a little less authentic every reel. It felt forced. And I felt the pressure to scale my business so I, too, could become a guru.

Then I had some health scares this year. Nothing focuses the mind like mortality.

Suddenly, the question wasn’t “How do I scale?” but “Why am I doing this at all?”

The answer: to make a difference in the lives of others. And in order to do that, I need to make sure that the potential clients who could benefit from my coaching can find me. That’s it. Just be authentic, speak from the heart, and help people understand me, what makes me tick, and how I try to help people.

Don’t chase the algorithms. Don’t yield to the pressure to post daily. Don’t become obsessed with client pain points and outcomes. Certainly, don’t overpromise. Put out lots of loving energy and empathy and compassion. Trust that the people who are looking for me will find me. After that, good stuff will almost always happen—if they are ready to do the work.

I’m also realizing I want to build community—something my past careers provided naturally and I’ve been missing. That’s a good in itself. Good for me, good for others, good for a world that desperately needs a revolution of love.

So I'm stepping back from the daily grind of social media and focusing on showing up in ways that reflect my values, my integrity, my heart. Writing more here. Finishing my memoir. Speaking when it feels right. Not disappearing—just showing up in ways that feel honest and sustainable. Trusting that the people looking for me will find me. And choosing to build everything—my work, my life, my relationships—from that foundation.