So I Went And Became a Realtor

So I Got My Real Estate License. Now What? One part ambition, one part chaos, one part 'I just moved here and don't know anyone' energy…

I did it. After eight long weeks, what felt like a thousand practice exams, math problems I might not ever need again, and approximately zero good nights of sleep — I passed my Michigan real estate licensing exam. I ugly cried. My 3.5-year-old asked if we were getting a cake to celebrate. We were absolutely getting a cake. Priorities.

Here's the thing about becoming a realtor when you're already a mom running a small business: people look at you like you just announced you're also training for an Ironman. In your spare time. While the toddler watches And honestly? Fair assumption. But if there's one thing entrepreneurship has taught me, it's that you can build something real out of basically nothing — a little grit, a lot of stubbornness, and an almost concerning tolerance for chaos. I figured real estate couldn't be that different.

(I have since learned that it is, in fact, a little different. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.)

Week one: telling absolutely everyone

The first week, I told everyone. My neighbor. My mail lady. The cashier at Trader Joe's who made the mistake of asking what my plans were for the day — these are my plans, sir, groceries and this business card. I shamelessly slipped a few into books at the library because everyone needs a bookmark. My son told a random mom at the park that I sell houses now, which — honestly, respect. He's already networking harder than I am and he can't even read yet.

Now here's where my story gets a little spicier than the average new agent: I'm not from here. Like, at all. I packed up my entire life in Portland, Oregon, moved cross-country with my husband, my toddler, and what felt like one million boxes, and landed in West Michigan. Which means I have no childhood friends nearby. No family passing my name around at Sunday dinner. No friends from highschool who are conveniently in the market for a home. My sphere of influence when I got my license was roughly… my husband. And our own realtor.

Starting from zero is humbling in a way that nobody fully prepares you for. You go from "I am officially licensed and ready to help people find their dream homes!" to "…does anyone actually want to buy a house?" faster than you'd think. It's a little like showing up to a party and realizing you don't know where the party is. Or if there's a party. Or if you were even invited. Cool cool cool.

Week two: actually putting myself out there

Somewhere in week two I had a little talk with myself. A very stern, very caffeinated talk. And I decided that if I was going to build something real here, I was going to have to do the thing that scared me the most since I was relatively new to this city: Make new friends. On purpose. As an adult. Which is somehow harder than passing the licensing exam.

So I started showing up. To local meetups. To local shops. To conversations I would have previously dodged by suddenly becoming very, very interested in my phone screen. And West Michigan, I have to say, has been almost unfairly welcoming about the whole thing. People here are genuinely, unexpectedly, wonderfully kind — which I did not see coming, and which I appreciate deeply. I have met more warm, generous humans in the past few weeks than I have in years, and as it turns out, some of them even know people looking to buy or sell a home. Which, as a brand new realtor, I find extremely personally exciting. Like, eating-a-cake-with-my-toddler-level exciting.

Real estate, it turns out, is just people. People with big dreams and scary decisions and approximately one million questions about square footage, school districts, and whether that crack in the basement is 'normal' or 'a problem.' I love people. I love those questions. Honestly, I didn’t know I had been waiting my whole life to care so much about a strangers square footage.

What I know so far

Full transparency — I don't have a packed client roster yet. Some days look like deep diving into website SEO, negotiating with a three-year-old who is absolutely certain marshmallows count as lunch, and realizing at 3pm that I forgot to eat. Oh, and half the month I'm doing all of it solo while my husband travels for work. It's a lot, but it's mine (ours)— and I love it.

I've built something from scratch before and I know what the messy, chaotic, "what am I even doing" early days look like. I also know they don't last forever. So I'm showing up anyway — one conversation, one connection, one new-to-me Michigan adventure at a time.