Most salespeople talk too much.

I see it constantly. Salespeople behave like sharks. If they stop swimming, they’ll die. So they keep moving. Explaining. Pitching. Filling every gap with language, even when nothing more needs to be said. The assumption is that motion equals control, and control equals credibility.

Years ago, I was in a small gift shop in Williamsburg when I came across a stack of beautifully printed, business-sized cards. Heavy paper. Elegant, old-world serif font. Restrained and deliberate in a way you rarely see anymore.

The card read:

STOP TALKING.

I bought them immediately, not as a joke, but as a reminder.

Because in sales, and especially in real estate, talking is rarely the problem. The lack of restraint is.

That reminder came rushing back to me last week while I listened in on a coaching client pitching a $10M buyer. This was a seasoned agent and a warm referral. There was no need to establish credibility or prove expertise. And yet, he was doing everything. Selling, justifying, explaining every decision before it was questioned.

It was exhausting to listen to. Not because the information was wrong, but because the energy was off. The room never had a chance to settle.

I texted him quietly: Less is more.

Nothing changed.

A few minutes later, I texted again: Stop talking.

That one landed.

What was happening in that room had nothing to do with preparation or skill. It was anxiety. When the stakes rise, even experienced agents abandon their edges. They start confusing effort with value. They talk to manage their own discomfort rather than to serve the person across the table. Silence feels risky, so they over-function to avoid it.

Clients pick up on this immediately. Over-explaining does not read as care. It reads as uncertainty.

This is where Esther Perel’s work becomes unexpectedly useful in a sales context. Much of her thinking centers on the idea that trust and intimacy do not come from unlimited access or constant reassurance. They come from structure. From containment. From knowing where the edges are. In other words, boundaries.

Responsiveness without boundaries does not create safety. It creates anxiety.

The same dynamic exists in buyer relationships. Clients do not relax because you keep talking. They relax when they feel held by someone who is comfortable with pauses, comfortable with silence, and confident enough to let the room breathe. The best advisors do not fill space. They shape it.

They do not confuse being easy to work with with being endlessly available or endlessly explanatory. They understand that restraint is part of leadership and that silence can carry authority.

When my client finally stopped talking, there was silence. Then the buyer took a breath and said, “Well, my wife is the decision-maker. I’ve learned not to pretend otherwise.” I could feel the tension dissipate as my client laughed.

That was the moment the pitch ended and the advisory relationship began. Not because anything new was added, but because space had finally been created for trust to settle.

Coaching Corner

This week, notice where you are talking past your own credibility.

Pay attention to the moments when you feel the urge to explain something that has not been questioned. Pause instead. If you catch yourself justifying a recommendation, stop and ask a thoughtful question. If silence makes you uncomfortable, stay with it long enough to see what emerges.

Perel often reminds us that boundaries are not walls. They are containers. And containers are what allow trust to form, decisions to crystallize, and authority to land.

You do not need a better script. You do not need more words.

Sometimes the most professional move you can make is the simplest one.

Stop talking.