The Accidental Realtor

Ten years ago, my husband and I bought our first house in El Cerrito, a quaint little city north of Berkeley. During my first maternity leave while working at Google, I began exploring our new neighborhood, spending hours each day strolling through town, looking for signs of life.

El Cerrito is what you’d call a bedroom community—better known for its hillside homes than trendy cafes. Its heyday was in the 1950s, and many of its stunning, architecturally significant homes are still occupied by the boomers who grew up in them. 

I was left wondering, "where are all the other cool mamas at?" 👀 

Weeks went by, and I realized if I couldn’t find my people here, I’d have to attract them. So, I did what any marketer would do—I started an Instagram account curating the best things in El Cerrito. I called it @thelittlehill.

It worked. The account grew to thousands of followers, I made real-life friends, and together, we explored “what’s good in El Cerrito.” We swapped ideas, created merch, painted murals, and, dare I say, made this quiet town feel a little more connected.

Then, during the pandemic, something shifted. People from cities like San Francisco started finding my account. They sent DMs saying, “We wanted to move to Oakland, but your account makes El Cerrito look pretty great. Can you show us some houses for sale this weekend?”

OMG. They thought I was a realtor. Whoops.

@thelittlehill: “Oh my goodness. I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for a real estate agent! Hehe. Believe it or not I run this account out for the sheer joy of connection 😅 but, I can point you in the direction of some fabulous local realtors who can help you!”  

This went on for some months. At least twice per week I’d pass along some eager first-time home buyers to realtors I followed online until one of these realtors pulled me aside and said, “you know…. you’d be really great at this.”

And so, I decided to study for a license and give it a whirl. WHY NOT.

Real estate is one of those professions many think they'd excel at but rarely pursue. Whether it's a love for architecture, design, open houses, or the confidence earned from months of house-hunting — and I’ve been in all those camps — everyone thinks they could do the job, but few actually do. I was going to find out why.

After three months of waking up two hours early to study, I passed the real estate exam. My plan was modest—sell a house or two that year during evenings and weekends.

But when I casually shared this milestone on Instagram with a simple “so, I did a thing,” my followers went wild. They wanted to buy houses—and they wanted me to help.

With the guidance of amazing mentors and a deep dive into architecture and home systems, I jumped in. Before long, I had represented dozens of buyers and sellers (and did quite well), all while juggling a full-time remote job.

But, of course, juggling it all wasn’t sustainable. While I was proud of what I’d built, I never felt fully “all in” on real estate and didn’t plan to leave my day job. I’m not a natural salesperson, and real estate is unpredictable—I had a family to support! My plan was to keep my stable job, build the brand, and find someone else to scale the real estate side while I stayed safe.

And I did—for a while. I focused on attracting clients through my passion project account and put systems in place to step back from the transactional side.

But every time I tried to pull away, the people pulled me back in. They valued my explain-it-like-I’m-5 educational approach, the tactical empathy I’d honed at YouTube, and my blend of data analysis, marketing skills, and local expertise.

Moreover, I realized that this was exactly what I was looking for. 

After years of globe-trotting and helping big companies grow even bigger, what I really wanted was something smaller—something rooted in my own community. I wanted to work with and for my neighbors, making a real, local impact.

At that point, it felt almost too obvious: how could I not go all in?

I had to decide, and and I chose my community. I chose giving more of my time to the folks who lived nearby who wanted to more deeply commit, to those who were making major life decisions and needed guidance and support.

It was the right choice, and with every family I meet I’m reminded how important this work is. It’s not about the houses, it’s about the people who live in them and the stories that will unfold within.

These days? I pinch myself. I have career where I get to work locally every day, admire and explore beautiful architecture and design, deploy my marketing expertise, make design decisions, learn something new every day, all while helping my friends and neighbors. It’s a dream I didn’t dare consider not too long ago.

Plus, I didn’t have to trade in my tech life. I’ll always have a foot in the tech world; I remain an investor, advisor, and consultant for a handful of tech start-ups. Now, I help their founders buy and sell houses too. ;)