Why LinkedIn feels especially weird

I obviously use social media — probably too much of it. Instagram gives me cat pics and bouldering inspiration, WhatsApp has the group chats, and there are even some strange professional communities on Slack. A bit of fun, some staying in touch, and of course… procrastination.

Then there's my LinkedIn account. It's not a place I go to relax or quietly browse. It's more like a place I feel I should go — like a six-month dentist check-up, but for my career. And yet I rarely leave it feeling good, even though there are plenty of nice people there.

Over time, I started wondering: what exactly makes me tired?

Part of it is simply that LinkedIn is a professional space, and that's a high-stakes situation by nature. My job is tied to my passport, my flat, the food in my fridge, and a good chunk of my identity. These things matter. And at the same time, it's a public space where people can — and do — judge. Not exactly a relaxing setup.

But that part is manageable. Just like at work, where we're often told to bring our whole selves, nobody actually wants the Saturday-evening version of me covered in cat hair with tea stains on my shirt. It's a public space. There's an audience. Choices need to be made.

What really gets to me is the content. I love reading. But the content there often wears me out, and here's why.

The upward pressure

A lot of what gets posted is about professional achievements, roles, and experience. Since everyone is curating their image here, it gets saturated quickly. People come to showcase competence and authority — which is fair — but a steady flow of success-centred content starts to get under your skin.

It's also frequently used to create a sense of gap: great leaders do X, best managers do Y, people who bring real value do Z. Sharing knowledge is genuinely great, but social media algorithms don't reward nuance. The more extreme, confident takes tend to win the feed.

Fear as an entry point

A lot of content leans on anxiety — and since AI entered the picture, this has intensified. Ten minutes of scrolling will give me a dozen reasons why I'm already outdated and about to be replaced by AI, a topic starter, or simply a better version of someone else. Change is coming fast, and here's what you need to do to not fall behind...

Even when the underlying message is useful, the entry point is often fear. And the ironic thing is, that's not really how change works. It's uneven, it folds itself into existing structures, and the results end up far more complex and stranger than anyone predicted.

Use of hooks

We are really becoming too good in manipulating each other’s attention. “I did one simple thing and...”, “unpopular opinion, but...” , “X is dead”, “5 things top performance do”. Hooks in general work unreasonable well. Recently ChatGPT rolled out their suggestions in the end of answers, it took me some conscious effort to end the chat.

We are genuinely getting very good at manipulating each other's attention. "I did one simple thing and...", "unpopular opinion, but...", "X is dead", "5 things top performers do." Hooks work unreasonably well.

Recently, ChatGPT started adding suggested follow-up questions at the end of answers. It took me a real conscious effort to just... close the chat. That's how effective nudges are, and  the mechanics are everywhere now.

The slight exaggeration of everything

Things are often… a little stretched. You read something that feels vaguely true and points in the same direction as everything else in your feed. Something like: "Meta fired all their data scientists — the future is here." It rings a bell, because yes, there were layoffs. But all of them? Not really. They're still actively hiring for those roles. The future is here, no doubt — just not the one described.

And yet you can't fact-check every post. So the information sits in your brain, quietly tickling you like a small monkey.

So — am I supposed to offer a solution here? Maybe just this: if LinkedIn feels weird to you, there's nothing wrong with you.

If you need a break from it, take one. Be gentle about what you read. Recognize that anything making you feel scared or not-enough was probably written to make you feel exactly that way. You can choose not to engage with it. Interact with content you actually enjoy. Remember that what you're seeing is a curated reality.

And then, enjoy the sunshine. It’s spring, after all.

Here is my Monday feed!