I signed up for a LinkedIn account in 2015 as part of a required career development class in my graduate studies. The assignment was to make a profile that will entice future employers.

I was, in a word, obsessed with LinkedIn.

It scratched every capitalistic itch I had. Ah, a place where I can talk about work and accomplishments and place value on how many connections I have in the world!

Ever so enthused, I was chosen to participate in their inaugural Student Voices program, where select college and grad students across the U.S. repped LinkedIn’s publishing platform on campus, encouraging their peers to start posting more. I was, quite literally, a LinkedIn hype woman.

I was still active on LinkedIn even after landing my first job. Wide-eyed and bushy tailed, I used it to connect with people whose careers I admired. It was a place of exploration and possibility.

Until it wasn’t.

What started as a tool for exploration became another space for people to make others feel badly about themselves.

Let me rephrase that: It became another space for me to engage with stuff that made me feel badly about myself.

In the past, I’ve talked about my complicated relationship with Instagram. Since then, I’ve almost completely stopped posting and engaging on the platform, both personally and professionally.

But I never felt like I could do that with LinkedIn.

‘To have a job, business, or any hope of career advancement means you have to be on LinkedIn’ is the story I’ve told myself since the day I signed up. But over time, just the potential of success didn’t seem worth the way I felt using the platform.

Being laid off was the final nail in LinkedIn’s coffin for me. Instead of supporting me on my job search, being on the site filled me with anxiety and self-doubt. So I decided it was time to draw a boundary — for my own sanity.

Intellectually speaking, deleting LinkedIn at the same time I become unemployed doesn’t make a whole lotta sense. However, identifying my need for a boundary with LinkedIn made me pause and check in on that story I’ve been telling myself for so long now.

If LinkedIn is actually required for me to advance in my career, why have all of my past roles and clients come from 1:1 connections and referrals?

LinkedIn has never actually gotten me a job or client. Perhaps it was one stop on the way to getting those things, but I couldn’t tell you that for sure.

Sometimes we hesitate to communicate or enforce the boundaries we need because, What if that [job, platform, client, etc.] is my only source of [validation, opportunity, compensation, etc."]? Then what??

Identifying and creating boundaries is hard, especially when it comes to work. Whether you’re a business owner or working for someone else, communicating your needs doesn’t always feel accessible, or possible.

If I delete LinkedIn, I may be unemployed for much longer than I’d like.

If I say no to this client, I may not get an opportunity like this again.

If I’m honest with my boss, they may find some way to punish or fire me.

And! If you set a boundary that supports what you need, you may find yourself in a more authentic, creative, and peaceful place as a result.

Peace, love and no more inMail,

Andrea