I hate sales.

I hate sales.

Not the act—the word. The baggage it carries.

Words are like brands. They get shaped by every interaction people have with them. And "sales" has been shaped by sneaky car salesmen, by ads with fine print so small you need a magnifying glass, by promises that evaporate the second you sign.

I worked in advertising. I've seen the tiny copy at the bottom of ads—the part that takes back everything the big, bold headline just promised you. That gap between what's said and what's true? That's where trust goes to die.

That's what ruined the word for me.

For me, sales meant pushing something on someone who doesn't need it. As a service provider, I can't know whether you need what I do unless we actually talk about it. So I just... didn't. I avoided the whole thing. I told myself I was being authentic, that I was different, that the work would speak for itself.

The past few weeks hit me hard.

I realized I might have put my business at risk because I was so busy not being a salesman that I forgot to tell people what I actually do.

That's belief, not strategy.

A used car salesman makes promises knowing you probably won't come back. A small business owner makes promises knowing you're going to see them at the grocery store next week. The mechanics are completely different. The incentives are completely different. But I kept treating them like they were the same thing.

Where it goes wrong: When I let the tainted version of the word stop me from doing the clean version of the work.

Because there's a core to sales that has nothing to do with tricks or fine print. I can share what I love to do—and honestly, passion is contagious. I can let people know what I offer so they know who to turn to when they need help. I can be a good example of what sales should actually look like.

That's it. That's the work.

When my clients say "I'm not good at sales," what they usually mean is "I'm not good at being dishonest." And they're right—they're not. They shouldn't be. But somewhere along the way, we all confused "not being pushy" with "not saying anything at all."

You don't need to trick people into buying from you. But you do need to tell them you exist.

I still cringe when I hear "sales." I wish the word wasn't so tainted by the work of others. But I've stopped letting that word dictate whether I'm doing the work. Because the work—sharing what I know with people who might need it—that's not something to avoid.

The word just needs better representation.

And maybe that starts with me actually talking about what I do.