His arms were crossed now, tight across his chest, while his wife’s had fallen casually to her sides. Twenty minutes earlier, it had been the opposite: he walked through the door of 9010 Memorial Drive relaxed and open, and she entered with her body pulled in, arms folded like armor. Somewhere between the foyer and the kitchen, their stances had swapped, and that subtle switch told me more about their feelings toward the home than anything they had actually said out loud.

That moment didn’t happen in isolation. From the second a buyer steps into a house, I start paying attention to what isn’t spoken. The foyer is my first test. I notice who lingers at the threshold, as if they’re not sure they belong yet, and who moves confidently, already claiming the space. Shoulders, stride, even the way someone breathes—it all paints a picture long before they put any words to it.

Psychologists have a term for it: nonverbal leakage. It’s the way our bodies broadcast what our mouths try to keep in. As you run your fingers over the kitchen counter, you say, “We’ll think about it,” and I know that thought is stickier than you let on. You look at your spouse and hesitantly claim, “We’re flexible on price,” but that tells me there’s more to unpack. Your body tells the unfiltered version of your words.

What makes it powerful isn’t a single gesture—it’s the transition. A client might cross their arms out of habit. But when open arms become closed arms, or when defensive posture melts into openness, that change tells me something shifted inside. That was exactly what I saw at 9010 Memorial Drive; he had gone from at ease to doubtful; she had gone from skeptical to engaged. The house had stirred something in both of them, but in opposite directions. And unless I addressed it, they would have left with those feelings unspoken.

So I held up a mirror. I smiled, looked at him, and said, “You came in open, and now you’re closed off. You came in closed off, but now you’re more open. Tell me what’s on your mind.” It wasn’t a trick, simply an invitation. That single observation opened the door to a conversation they didn’t even realize they needed to have.

In real estate, the biggest breakthroughs often come from these subtle shifts. Clients want to appear confident and composed, but buying a home is emotional, even vulnerable, and bodies betray what words try to cover up. That day in the living room at 9010 Memorial Drive, I realized again how much of my job depends on presence. If I had stayed focused only on their words, I would have missed the story unfolding right in front of me. Noticing those shifts gives me the chance to ask the right questions: “What’s pulling you in here?” or “What’s making you hesitate?” I gave them the space to articulate what they were already feeling—they could finally debate it, weigh it, and sit with it together.

The house itself didn’t change between the first step inside and the moment we stood in the living room. What changed was their relationship to it—and to each other’s reactions. They circled back through rooms they had already walked, this time noticing details with sharper eyes, pointing things out to each other, admitting what they loved and what made them hesitate. What began as a polite tour became a real conversation about whether this house could hold their lives.

That is what psychology gives me in real estate—the ability to tune into what people don’t realize they’re showing. It’s in those small, almost invisible moments where honesty sneaks out, and when it does, you have to be ready to catch it. Because sometimes, the future of a deal lives not in the words exchanged, but in the silence between them.

I catch what’s unsaid, so nothing holds you back.

Until next time,

Dee Dee Guggenheim Howes

Source:
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/cutting-edge-leadership/201910/10-ways-your-body-language-gives-you-away?