I Love Being Sold To

Dear neurodivergent entrepreneur

It took me a long time to realise I like being sold to.

Not in the loud, shouty, limited-time-discount-and-free-crystals-thrown-in kind of way.

But when someone I trust tells me they’ve made something that could help, and then — this is the key bit — gently explains how I can buy it? I love that. It feels respectful and helpful.

And yet so many of us — particularly women, and especially those of us who are neurodivergent — struggle with this part of our business. The selling bit.

We might create things. Fantastic things. Services that could genuinely change someone’s life or make their week easier. But asking someone to pay for it? Saying the actual words — this costs £X and here’s how to book it? Feels toe-curling, doesn’t it?

For a lot of us, it triggers a primal feeling. Like we’ve broken some unspoken rule about being “too much”, asking for attention, daring to value our work. Add in a side-helping of rejection sensitivity, and the entire act of selling online can feel like standing in the town square wearing a sign that says “Please Like Me”.

But the reality is, asking for the sale isn’t manipulative. Or greedy. Or desperate.

It’s what makes it a business.

If you’re not exchanging something — energy, knowledge, time, and yes, money — then it’s a nice hobby. A charitable endeavour. A creative project.

But a business? A business includes sales.

So, let’s talk about how we get more comfortable with it.

First — what do you mean, “you love being sold to”?  

I like it when someone is clear. When they share why they do what they do, how they work, and how I can take part.

I enjoy it when a writer or a practitioner says something that stops me mid-scroll. Then I click to their page and there’s an offer. Nicely packaged. Easy to understand. Nothing pressure-y. Just a clear invitation to buy.

I feel respected when I’m given the option to say yes. Or no.

My opinion is that most people want to be sold to.  

They want help. Support. Solutions. Beauty. Ease.

They want something — and they’re actively looking for the right person to deliver it.

So when someone you already trust mentions their offer — without dancing around it or apologising for daring to charge money for their work — it can actually feel like relief.

So why does selling feel so dreadful at times?

Because we’ve been trained — through years of subtle and not-so-subtle messaging — that good women don’t ask for things. We don’t take up space. We don’t push.

We wait to be chosen.

Combine that with a neurodivergent brain that might already struggle with vulnerability, fear of rejection, or the sensation of “getting something wrong,” and you’ve got a perfect storm.

Here’s what I often hear from clients:

- “I don’t want to come across as pushy.”

- “What if they think I only care about money?”

- “What if no one buys, and it’s humiliating?”

- “I’m worried people will unsubscribe if I promote my offer too much.”

- “I don’t know how to phrase it without sounding awkward.”

Here’s what I want to say (gently, but clearly):

→ You’re not being pushy by saying “this is available and here’s how to buy it.”  

→ You’re not bad for needing to be paid. You’re an adult woman running a business.  

→ People unsubscribe from emails every day — usually because they’re decluttering, not because they secretly loathe you.  

Selling is not shameful.  

Making money is not shameful.  

Letting people know how to pay you? Definitely not shameful.

People need what you offer (but they’re not mind-readers)

Every week, I come across someone talking online at length about a topic I find deeply helpful. I nod along.. And then — nothing.

No link. No offer. No mention of how to work with them.

I close my phone and probably forget about them within an hour.

This happens all the time. And it’s such a lost opportunity.  

As potential buyers, we’re busy. Distracted. Looking for solutions but surrounded by noise. If someone has to go digging for your offer, chances are they won’t bother.  

So let this be a quiet encouragement from me to you: make it easier to buy from you. 

You can still be thoughtful. Still be soft around the edges. But put it out there. Show up in your content and tell people what you offer. Show them what it looks like, sounds like, feels like.

And then — and this is the most important bit — ask for the sale.  

“I have space for two more clients this month. If this sounds like your kind of thing, here’s where to book.”

Simple. Honest. Effective.

You don’t have to follow the shouty formula

Just to be clear — this isn't me telling you to do loud launches five times a year with confetti graphics and countdown timers (unless that genuinely excites you, in which case, crack on.)

But you do need a way of bringing people from "this is lovely" to "how do I work with you?"

That might look like:

- Adding a PS at the bottom of your newsletters with a link to your services

- Including a line in your blog posts about your current offers

- Sharing client stories where you show how your work made a difference

- Writing a post about what it’s like to work with you, who it helps, and how

You don’t need to rehearse a pitch or pretend to be someone you’re not. You just need to practise saying, “Here’s what I’ve made. If it helps, it’s available.”

Selling is a service

Let’s flip it around.

Imagine a friend has created a program to help women in menopause sleep better. You’d be annoyed if they kept it entirely to themselves, wouldn’t you?

The same goes for your work.

If you’ve spent hours crafting something that supports, uplifts, solves, simplifies, or soothes — isn’t it kinder to let people know it’s there?

You’re not being annoying. You’re being clear.

You’re allowing people the chance to say yes.

But what about rejection?

This is a big one.

Rejection sensitivity is common in ADHD and autism. And selling — by its very nature — opens you up to a lot of potential ‘nos’.

It can feel exposing. Personal. Slightly humiliating, especially if you're in the wrong headspace.

So here’s what I recommend: take the emotion out of the numbers.

If you make 10 sales posts and 2 people buy, that’s not 8 rejections. That’s 2 successful invitations.  

If you send one email and 11 people unsubscribe, but 3 people book, it's worth it.

The numbers aren’t an indictment of your character.  

You are not for everyone.  

You shouldn’t be.  

And those who don’t buy? They’re often still watching. Still listening. And maybe not yet ready — but maybe they will be in time.

Final thoughts

Selling, for us, is never going to be about confidence in the big-bold-rah-rah sense. That’s not how most neurodivergent women operate.

But what we can build is clarity. Care. Routine.

We can create ways of sharing our offers that feel grounded and genuine. We can practice talking about money in a voice that still feels like our own.

And if you’ve ever been helped by someone who let you buy from them — who was clear, kind, and professional about it — perhaps you could be that person for someone else.

That kind of selling? I love.  

And I bet your clients would too.

Warmly,  

Hannah