You’re buying your version of reality.

Two people walk into an Apple Store.

Same store. Same iPhone. Same price. Same annoyingly perfect lighting.

One person picks it up and thinks: Wow, this feels nice.

The other person picks it up and thinks: There is absolutely no way I’m paying this much for a phone.

Neither of them is wrong. And that’s the weird part.

Because technically, they’re looking at the exact same product. But psychologically? They’re not.

I think marketers forget this all the time.

We assume customers are standing outside the product, calmly inspecting it, comparing features, weighing the pros and cons and eventually arriving at some beautifully rational decision.

Newsflash, humans don’t really work like that.

We experience things through this messy filter made up of memories, beliefs, identity, fears, desires, previous experiences, social circles and whatever happens to be running through our head that morning.

Research on self-concept has found that people often prefer products and brands that fit how they see themselves, or sometimes how they’d like to see themselves.

Which explains why buying gets so bloody complicated.

The conversation you can’t hear

Imagine a real estate agent showing someone an apartment in Dubai.

He says: “This property is AED 2.4 million.”

That’s the dialogue. But inside the buyer’s head there’s another conversation happening.

Is this property worth it? Is this area actually going to appreciate? What if the market drops? My wife would love this kitchen. Mark bought it last year. Imagine having everyone over on New Year’s Eve. Am I being stupid? But God, that view.

The real estate agent is talking to the customer. The customer is talking to himself.

Guess which conversation matters more?

This is why I think some of the best marketing doesn’t feel like someone trying to persuade you. It feels like someone entered the conversation you were already having in your head.

We don’t just buy things. We use them.

Not only physically. Psychologically.

A house can be bricks and concrete to one person. To another, it’s security. To someone else, it’s status. To someone who spent 15 years renting, it might mean: I finally own something.

Same property. Completely different purchase.

The same thing happens with brands.

A Nike sneaker can simply be comfortable. Or it can represent sport, ambition and belonging to the tribe of “Just Do It.”

An Android phone might mean freedom, choice and control. An iPhone might mean simplicity, familiarity and an ecosystem that just works.

Even scrolling through people arguing about iPhone versus Android, you see completely different reasons. Some talk about cost and customisation. Others talk about simplicity, reliability and ecosystem.

They’re not necessarily choosing between two phones. They’re choosing between two sets of priorities or perceptions. Maybe even two versions of themselves.

This is where self-esteem gets interesting

There’s a lazy marketing take that says people buy expensive things because they’re insecure.

Sometimes, maybe. But humans are not that convenient.

Consumption can reinforce identity, express identity, compensate for something we feel we lack, help us belong, or simply give us pleasure.

Research on luxury consumption has even found different relationships between self-esteem, stress, identity and buying depending on the circumstances.

Someone might buy a Rolex because they desperately want other people to know they’re successful or signal they’ve made it.

Someone else might buy the exact same Rolex because they spent ten years building a company and promised themselves they’d buy one when they made it.

Same watch. A very different story they tell themselves, all happening in the mind.

So how do you make someone buy?

Maybe that’s the wrong question.

What conclusion does this person need to reach for themselves?

That changes how you write.

Instead of screaming: BUY THIS PROPERTY. AMAZING INVESTMENT. LIMITED UNITS.

You might show them the rental yield. Show them what similar properties sold for. Show them the neighbourhood. Show them the school their child could walk to. Show them what ownership could look like five years from now.

And then let their mind do some of the work.

Good copywriting doesn’t always drag someone toward a conclusion. Sometimes it lays the evidence on the table in exactly the right order.

The customer connects the dots.

And that’s powerful because people are much more comfortable with conclusions that feel like their own.

Maybe that’s what marketers are really doing.

Not changing reality. Not controlling minds.

Just understanding that every customer walks around with a slightly different version of reality already running inside their head.

And your brand has to make sense inside that world before it ever has a chance of being bought in this one.

Thanks for reading this far…