“I’m thrilled to announce that after 372 coffee chats, 89 cold emails, and deep introspection while staring at my reflection in a WeWork bathroom mirror, I’ve accepted a new role as Associate Growth Mindset Evangelist at Meta.” The likes roll in. The congratulations. The reposts. And I get it—we want to be seen. Especially when you’ve worked hard for something. I’m not against celebrating wins. Celebrate your wins! Just maybe not every Tuesday @ 10:00 But there’s this subtle thing that happens when we’re all online jostling for career oxygen & appearances: it starts to feel like your value is only real once LinkedIn agrees it is. You didn’t really get the job until it’s optimized into a 4-paragraph story with a hook and a hashtag. You didn’t really finish the project until it’s accompanied by a carousel post and 87 bullet points about what it taught you about “grit.” I’m seeing validation confused with impact. That’s exhausting. Especially for builders, makers, and startup folks who already spend so much of their day doing. If I’m building a thing I believe in, I don’t want to pause the momentum to reverse-engineer my excitement into a sanitized, keyword-rich post. Just let the work speak. That’s all I’m saying.2. Every Dentist Appointment Is Now a Leadership Metaphor At some point, the platform became allergic to normal language. We can’t just say we went to the dentist anymore. We have to turn it into a lesson on resilience or efficiency or strategic growth.
“As I sat in the dentist’s chair, I realized: this cleaning was just like scaling a startup…” Good god You’re allowed to have experiences that don’t double as business insights. It’s okay if your Tuesday was uneventful. You don’t have to spin it into a thread about operational excellence. Not every iced coffee needs a LinkedIn caption. What we’re really doing is overperforming relatability. We’re trying so hard to be human on a platform that rewards polish. It creates this uncanny valley where no one really feels like themselves, but everyone’s doing their best impression of what a “professional human” sounds like. And frankly, it’s weird. We don’t talk like that at dinner. We don’t talk like that when we’re building. So why do we talk like that here?3. You Don’t Need Permission This is the one that really gets me. So many posts read like a quiet request:
“After lots of thought, I’m finally launching this project. I don’t know where it’ll go, but I’m excited to share it with you all.” And again—this isn’t about dunking on people. Launching anything is hard. Putting yourself out there is vulnerable. I respect it deeply. But what I want to tell every builder, founder, creative, or person with a tiny hunch in their gut is:You don’t need permission. You don’t need LinkedIn to bless it. You don’t need to soften it. You don’t need to make it palatable to a hypothetical audience of former colleagues and future investors. Just go build it. Honestly? Most people aren’t even paying that much attention. They’re busy jostling for their own attention. So if you’re sitting on an idea, a product, a tool, a newsletter, a small business—whatever—start. Put it out in the world and let the world meet it without the pre-apology. You’ll learn faster. You’ll move faster. You’ll feel more like yourself again. ⸻ So, what now? I’m not saying delete your LinkedIn account. I’m not saying never post again. But if you’ve been feeling a weird pressure to turn every moment into content, or every step into a brand, or every success into a 9-point story arc—this is your sign to stop. Let LinkedIn do what it does. Meanwhile, you go do what you do. Build. Ship. Repeat. Say less, do more. The real momentum lives in the work—not the post about it. See you out there. For the love of Sourdough, Lawrence