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I used to think that "asking for the sale" was a battle of wills

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I used to think that "asking for the sale" was a battle of wills, a moment where I had to summon some predatory energy to finally trap a prospect into a decision. I stood there, heart hammering against my ribs, waiting for that imaginary signal that the "closing window" had opened, only to realize I was usually too late or too desperate.



The paradox I live with now is that the best way to get a "yes" is to genuinely give the other person the freedom to say "no." It sounds like a trick, but it is actually the ultimate release of pressure.



I struggled for years with "commission breath," that perceptible neediness that research confirms triggers a "creepiness" response in others. When I operated from that "Small Self," I was extractive and anxious. You know the feeling of being hunted by a salesperson, that visceral need to protect your wallet and your autonomy. It turns out that this reaction is an evolutionary defense mechanism against predation, effectively shutting down the neural pathways required for collaboration.



To find the "right time," I had to stop looking for a gap in their defenses and start looking for a shift in their identity.



In the framework of the "Giant Self," I have learned that the invitation to buy happens when the pain of the status quo finally outweighs the fear of change. The word "sale" comes from the Old English sellan, meaning "to give up, deliver, or render." It was never supposed to be about taking; it was about the delivery of value.



If you're like me, you've tried the "Feel, Felt, Found" scripts that feel like wearing a cheap, itchy suit. They are inauthentic and dated. Instead, I now sit with the "Blameless Autopsy". I ask myself if I have truly uncovered the "Cost of Inaction". If I haven't shown them how staying the same is costing them money or time, there is no "right time" to ask.



The foundational reframe transforming my life is that I am not a pitcher, but a filter and a sense-maker.



I wait for the trial close. I ask, "How does that sound to you?"10. If they hesitate, I don't push; I troubleshoot the pain11. When the solution fits the pain like a key in a lock, the commitment is just the natural next step in the 12 Journeys of Selling.



This is what I am sitting with.



Can I truly detach from the outcome enough to prioritize their needs over my own targets?



Follow along as I continue to walk this path.



I write more about this in No String Selling.



 
 
 

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