Forrest Gump’s mama was right when she compared the human experience to a box of assorted chocolates. It’s true: “You never know what you’re gonna get.” And these days, the same could be said of my LinkedIn feed.
The social network — once a bland haven for professional connections and job listings — has morphed in the influencer age. It’s the only place on Will Smith’s internet where you’ll find entrepreneurial bros preaching hustle culture alongside weirdly inappropriate overshares, clearly fabricated business allegories, and, yes, “some personal news” related to a new job or promotion. It’s no wonder multiple publications have crowned LinkedIn as social media’s king of the cringe. (There’s at least one Instagram account dedicated to it, too.)
And yet every day I’m right there lurking. My M.O. is the same as on every other platform: I’m more consumer than creator. You won’t find me all up in the videos on TikTok (Suge Knight would approve) and I stopped tweeting around the time the Tesla guy took over. Yet for all of the eye-rolling that my LinkedIn feed provokes, I’ve recently come to a humbling realization: the most relentless brand builders, humblebraggers, and engagement farmers seem to be the ones landing opportunities while I’m busy scrolling in silence. In this personal season of unemployment, it’s made me consider rebelling against my natural low-key demeanor and consistently putting myself out there — especially with the September surge upon us.
For the uninitiated, the September surge is that burst of hiring activity between Labor Day and Thanksgiving, right before everything slows down for the holidays. Hiring managers want seats filled so teams can power through Q4 and hit the ground running post-New Year’s Day. For job seekers, it’s the golden window. Miss it, and odds are you’ll still be writing cover letters come January.
Normally, I would just keep my head down and continue cold applying. I’ve always believed my work and my rep speak for themselves. The irony, of course, is that I work in marketing. My entire career has been about making noise for other people’s brands. Meanwhile, my own? Silent. If hypocrisy could pay rent, I’d be set.
That’s not to say I haven’t done well for myself by overshooting goals and being generally dope at my job. But if giving my victories and expertise the silent treatment has taken me this far, I can’t help but wonder if my failure to constantly take to the digital mountaintops and big myself up is keeping me out of sight, out of mind. And ultimately, out of a job.
As much as I hate to admit it, I know what’s at the root of this reluctance: that nagging fear of judgment. Would folks size up my wins? Think I’m too proud, too arrogant, too braggy? Will people look down on me during a chapter of struggle? Judge the open-to-work banner on my photo? I know it’s B.S. as I type it out, but that doesn’t make it any less real in my mind. And it certainly doesn’t fit the attention economy, where volume often matters more than value.
I must admit, taking up digital space has previously worked in my favor. When I announced that I was back on the job market after being laid off, I quickly got two separate offers to tackle short-term copywriting projects. One LinkedIn connection even hit me up about a gig off nothing more than a birthday notification.
The September surge dovetails with “the Great Lock In,” another trend that kicks off toward the end of summer but instead focuses on personal development and accomplishing goals. This year, I’m getting in on the Gen-Z popularized movement and stepping up my self-promo. Because the truth is, being your own publicist isn’t optional anymore. I’ve watched peers land jobs, speaking gigs, mentorships, and adjunct professor roles because they weren’t afraid to shout themselves out. Meanwhile, I’m imagining the opportunities I’ve let pass by because I didn’t want to be “that guy.” No more.
So this September, I’m rewriting the script. I’m gonna reflect and remind folks of my past and present wins, highlight interesting peers and developments related to my field, and simply ask for help landing my next role without overthinking. The goal isn’t to go viral; it’s to stop being invisible. If you’re LinkedIn shy, let this be your push to do the same. Just don’t be cringe, yo.