Let’s talk about one of the most vulnerable, bizarre, and surprisingly emotional parts of selling your home:

The Showing.

Because nothing says “please love this space” like shoving stray laundry into a closet, lighting a candle, and sprinting out the door with your dog and three granola bar wrappers in hand—all while praying that strangers will walk in and say, “This is the one.”

But here’s the thing about showings: they’re weird. Beautifully important, yes, but also… weird.

You’re inviting people into your private world. The space where your kids have taken first steps, where you’ve cried on the kitchen floor, hosted game nights, argued over paint colors, and created something sacred. And suddenly, it’s being opened like a catalog, toured, commented on, and critiqued.

And sometimes… used.

Yes, someone might have a bathroom emergency. (Isn’t there a saying that if someone feels truly comfortable in your home, they’ll use the restroom?)

Yes, a parent might lose track of their child, and you’ll return to find a new, highly imaginative train route created on your kid’s play table.

Yes, someone may linger at the window, leaving a smudge of a fingerprint as they picture themselves hosting summer pool parties in your backyard.

It’s an odd kind of hospitality: Welcome! Feel at home, but not too much.

And underneath it all is this inner monologue we never say out loud:

Please buy my home.
But don’t park in my driveway.
Please see yourself living here.
But please don’t look in that cabinet.
Please feel something.
But… why are you still here? It’s been 42 minutes.

This is the emotional tightrope of showings. You want connection, but you also want control. You want buyers to see themselves in the space, but it’s still your space.

And that’s why I walk my sellers through this season with intention, grace, and a whole lot of practical support.

Here is the thing – showings aren’t just about aesthetics. They’re about making space, emotionally and physically, for someone new to imagine their life here. That takes courage. It takes trust. And honestly, it takes a really good real estate agent who knows how to help you protect your peace and present your home in the best light.

So yes, showings are awkward.

Yes, you may return to find a light left on and a faint smell of someone else’s cologne.

But somewhere out there is a buyer who’s going to walk through your front door, take one breath, and say: “This feels like home.”

And when they do? All those fingerprints, flushed toilets, and toy train detours will have been completely worth it.