A Misadventure On LinkedIn
I tried to do the necessary work for succeeding on LinkedIn. I lasted four days.
There's an unfair burden on you when you're starting something new. To get any traction you have to put in disproportionate effort up front.
There's the learning curve and you have to fight through it to get going. Ask anyone who's ever learned how to play an instrument or write calligraphy or speak a second language. You spend so much time at the beginning being awful at it, but then you start to build momentum and suck less. And you keep getting better and feeling better in the process.
I tried to do the necessary work for succeeding on LinkedIn.
I didn't last four days before I went into a tailspin.
I can see its upsides. For many, it can be a boon. For me, it was a complete disaster. I could have made an attempt at faking it til I was making it, but it wasn't worth the price of admission.
My mental health spiraled. In the few days I was active there, I had a visceral feeling throughout my entire body that I was doing something that went against my soul.
I know imposter syndrome well. I went to a competitive music school. I've performed hundreds of shows, shared hundreds of songs, and posted stuff online for close to 20 years. I know what it feels like to feel anxious and out of my league.
What I felt on LinkedIn went beyond imposter syndrome.
I felt like a fraud, a hustler. I believe I have valuable knowledge to share, but not there. That space was not built for me. And I don't see the point in spending time doing something I despise when I could be pouring myself into other fruitful and aligned endeavors.
Can you make money on LinkedIn? Absolutely. If you have a plan. If you have the right content. If you have something you can monetize. If you have the right skills and if you want to play that game.
If you have a skill you can sell with a proven track record - even if that track record is yourself - I bet you can succeed on LinkedIn.
And if you think you can, then you should give it a go! I'm not here to rain on your parade.
I just don't want to march in that parade.
I don't want to play that game.
LinkedIn is a social media platform. It's still a game. And if you don't want to play the game, you don't have to. Also, I got off Facebook and Instagram for my own sanity. Why did I think LinkedIn would be any different?
It's not.
I don't have anything to monetize on LinkedIn. I was given a formula to follow to build a following for my non-existent-and-likely-always-will-be-non-existent self-development newsletter (and eventually a course and a coaching offer and all that jazz). But I realized my true loves (music, writing, and sharing) and expertise (music, teaching, and sharing) exist beyond the stifling confines of LinkedIn.
I don't have any courses (check out Ramit Sethi) or a book about habit development (read James Clear) or a resume to display my massive earnings and revenue from writing online (check out Nicolas Cole, Ayo, and Tim Denning and Todd Brison)
To date, I've made $4.01 from writing online, and that's okay.
You have to start somewhere.
And my somewhere is nowhere near LinkedIn.