

It was one of those crisp European summer mornings where you’re debating whether to grab a jacket or risk freezing (you grab your jacket because ….Belgium weather is crazy unpredictable). We were in one of the oldest towns in Belgium. Roman walls still surround the city, streets are full of vendors selling everything from velvet bar stools to scary taxidermy animals that look like the thing of nightmares.
It is exactly the kind of experience you want when you think of going to a European Flea Market.
I was tagging along with my friend Michelle — she’s an actual antiques dealer (yes, the kind who fills shipping containers with treasures and sends them back to California where they get marked up ten times). We were both looking for art and even though I’d been to this market several times she tugged me toward an area I’d never seen. It had loads of art stalls and whispered, “This is where you’ll find the good stuff — cheap.”
That’s when I saw him: scruffy beard, worn jeans, steaming tea in hand. Paintings stacked behind him like a secret collection. He stood tall & unapologetic.
He had exactly what we’d come for.
Here’s the problem: I have zero poker face.
Last time my husband and I bought a car, he literally had to tell me to “stop looking so damn excited” because I was tanking our negotiation.
Michelle gave me the same warning: “Don’t act like you like it too much. Be cool.”
But I am not the cool girl. When I like something, my whole body lights up. I gush. I’m basically a neon sign that says: PLEASE TAKE ALL MY MONEY.
And founders? Most of you are the same. You oversell, over-explain, and then over-discount when someone hesitates. You want them to want it so bad you accidentally show your desperation.
But here’s the thing: desperation doesn’t sell. Confidence does.
So I bit my tongue. I let him talk.
I liked the painting before.
But when I heard the story, I had to have it.
Psychology backs this up: when we hear a story, our brains automatically insert ourselves into it. We imagine it, feel it, and want to be part of it. Storytelling literally lights up more areas of the brain than facts ever will.
And this is where so many beauty & wellness founders miss the mark.
Your client isn’t calculating price-per-ounce of serum or cost-per-minute of a facial. She’s not in her head; she’s in her feelings.
She’s buying a story she can walk into — a better version of her day, her mood, her rituals.
The bros love to say, “No one cares about your story.”
I call bullshit. Story is the moat. It’s been the moat since humans gathered around fires trading myths.
👉 And that’s the lesson: story doesn’t just sell the thing — it sets the value.
Your clients aren’t doing the math on price-per-ounce of serum. She’s not measuring the exact number of minutes she’ll get on your facial table.
She’s buying the story she can walk into. The ritual. The transformation. The vibe.
The bros love to say, “No one cares about your story.” Cute. Wrong, but cute.
Story is the moat. Always has been. Always will be.
Where founders screw it up is thinking “tell your story” means trauma-dumping on Instagram.
A burnout confession here, a “raw and real” diary entry there. That’s not strategy. That’s free therapy.
Here’s the move: Don’t tell all your story. Tell the parts of your story that unlock hers.
Wrong move: “I’m so exhausted, I can barely function.”
Right move: “Her to-do list is chasing her before the caffeine hits … until this ritual shifts the script.”
See the difference? One is about you. The other lets her see herself.Most founders hear “tell your story” and think it means dumping their personal life onto Instagram. Trauma here, struggle post there, “authentic” diary entries everywhere. That’s not strategy. That’s unpaid therapy.
Here’s the truth: people don’t want the whole story. They want the parts of your story that unlock their story.
When story becomes strategy, 3 things happen:
Here’s the nuance the bros miss: story isn’t fluff. It’s a positioning tool. It’s how you stop selling a product and start selling belonging, identity, transformation.
And here’s the second piece of wisdom I walked away with:
Desperation doesn’t sell. Confidence does.
The “cool girl” doesn’t chase. She doesn’t beg. She knows the worth of what she has. She tells the story and lets the buyer come closer.
Not everyone will. Some will walk. That’s fine.
Because the ones who feel the story, who see themselves in it?
They’ll meet you at your price. Every time.
Want to try it? Here’s how to tell a story that sells without begging for the sale:
Whether it’s a 20 Euro canvas at a flea market or a $200 moisturizer, people don’t buy the price. They buy the story that makes it feel inevitable.
So tell the story. Own your worth. Drop the “please pick me” energy.
That’s how you sell without chasing. That’s how you build the kind of brand people line up for.
Because in the end, one man’s trash really is another woman’s mantlepiece and it’s all in the story you tell.