“How much do you think they’ll come down?”
My son was buying a car, and we were entering the negotiation phase. The part of buying a car I used to hate, but somewhere along the way learned to enjoy.
“That’s the wrong question,” I told him. “They have every right to make a profit. The real question is: what’s a fair price?”
And to figure that out, we needed data. Of course, the internet makes this ridiculously easy.
Within a few minutes, we found several comparable cars, including one about an hour away. Pretty much the same car. Slightly higher mileage.
$750 less.
“So we have the data,” I asked him. “Now what?”
“We ask them to drop the price. But they’re not going to.”
“Why?”
“They have the power.”
There it was.
One of the bigger rules I’ve had to unlearn in my own life.
“Kiddo, you can say no. You can walk away. You don’t have to have this car, right?” He thought about it.
“So who has the power?”
“I do.”
Well... sort of.
We went back to the dealer, named the price we thought was fair, and showed them the comparable car.
They said no. I asked if they were sure. Was there anything they could do?
Nope.
So we thanked them and walked out.
My son called the other dealer and told them we were on our way.
Two hours later, the first dealership called. They matched the price.
This isn’t a story about beating a car dealer. They weren’t wrong to hold their price, and we weren’t wrong to leave.
The interesting part happened before the negotiation even started- my son had already decided who had the power.
I see versions of this all the time.
Recently, I was talking with a client about compensation and learned she had never countered a salary offer. Not once.
And she’s not alone. About half of American workers accept a job offer without even trying to negotiate.
I hear similar rules everywhere:
- “They’re not giving raises right now.”
- “I have to take this offer.”
- “There’s no room to negotiate the bonus.”
- “I can’t ask for more time off.”
Maybe. But maybe not.
Something happens when we decide we need a particular outcome.
Our world gets very small.
If I need this job, the company holds the cards.
If I need this promotion, my boss holds the cards.
If I need this car, the dealer holds the cards.
The more convinced I become that there is only one acceptable outcome, the more power I give that outcome over me.
That’s where the shift can happen - from defense to possibility.
Instead of protecting the one outcome we’ve already decided we need, we can start looking around.
What else is true? What else is available?
Compare:
I need this job.
With:
I choose this job.
Same job, different posture.
And that doesn’t mean the choice is easy.
Years ago, I was living in Austin and running out of money.
Lunch was usually peanut butter and jelly. Dinner was ramen noodles. I was living paycheck to paycheck, and there wasn’t much paycheck.
At the time, someone saying, “Well, just walk away from your job,” would have deserved a pretty serious eye roll.
I needed income - that was real.
But the story I had attached to it wasn’t completely real.
Because underneath the fear was another option I desperately did not want to consider - swallow some pride and move back home. Start over.
I hated that option. Hated it.
But hating an option is not the same as not having one. Eventually, that’s what I chose.
Power does not mean getting your way.
It doesn’t mean the dealer lowers the price, your employer gives you the raise, or the company increases the offer. Power isn’t control over someone else, and it’s not about “winning”.
It is the ability to see your choices clearly enough that another person’s “no” does not make the decision for you.
Sometimes you negotiate. Sometimes you accept exactly what was offered.
Sometimes you stay. Sometimes you leave.
Sometimes the smartest choice is to take the damn job because rent is due Friday.
The difference is knowing you made a choice instead of assuming one had already been made for you. That’s what my son was learning in the dealership.
And if I’m honest, it’s something I’m still learning myself.
So when someone else seems to have all the power, I’ve started asking a different question: If I say no here, what becomes possible somewhere else?
Maybe power isn’t about having the upper hand. Maybe it’s about remembering you still have a hand to play.
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