Should I Leave Social Media — Even LinkedIn?
For the past few months, a question has been growing louder in my head:
Should I leave social media altogether — even LinkedIn?
This isn’t a question about digital detoxing. It’s not about limiting screen time or tweaking notification settings. It’s about a deeper reevaluation of how — and why — I interact with these platforms at all.
The Emotional Exhaustion of Being “Online”
I used to love the internet. I still do, in many ways. It’s been my tool, my playground, my career. I’ve connected with brilliant people. I’ve shared work I’m proud of. I’ve built entire projects through relationships sparked by a DM or a comment.
But somewhere along the way, the platforms stopped feeling like neutral tools and started feeling like performance stages.
There’s an emotional cost to constantly “being present” online. Even when you’re not posting, you’re absorbing. The successes of others, the news cycles, the humblebrags, the outrage — all of it curated, optimized, and algorithmically delivered. It’s not just social anymore. It’s ambient pressure.
LinkedIn: The Last Holdout
Facebook went first. Instagram followed. Twitter (sorry, “X”) became unbearable.
But LinkedIn? That felt… different. It was supposed to be the serious space — the professional town square. A place for opportunities, insights, connections. Right?
Lately, I’m not so sure.
The tone has shifted. It’s now flooded with personal branding masquerading as vulnerability. “Leadership” posts written with copywriting formulas. Growth hacking disguised as authenticity. And if I’m being honest, I’ve played into it too.
I’ve edited posts to sound smarter. I’ve polished career milestones for maximum impact. I’ve measured engagement like it meant something. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I’ve lost sight of why I was even showing up.
What Would Happen If I Left?
Professionally, I might miss out on some visibility. A few introductions. The occasional inbound opportunity. That’s the fear, right? That not being visible means being irrelevant. That if you’re not part of the digital conversation, you don’t exist. But I wonder if that fear is real — or just a story I’ve absorbed from the platforms themselves. Because the truth is, the most meaningful opportunities in my life didn’t come from a viral post. They came from conversations. Real ones. Often off-platform.
The Case for Silence
There’s a kind of clarity that comes from absence. When I’ve taken breaks, I’ve noticed a return of something hard to describe — an inner quiet. My thoughts become my own again. My creative work deepens. I stop measuring my ideas by likes, and instead by whether they feel true.
Maybe what I’m craving isn’t just less screen time — but fewer filtered layers between me and the world.
So, Will I Leave?
I don’t know. Not yet. This isn’t a dramatic announcement or a goodbye. It’s an honest question I’m sitting with.
