Today, I did what I thought I would never do in my whole life. I opened my LinkedIn profile, and I looked at every job that I worked for. I looked at the dates, and I put my roles. Roles I enjoyed, roles I didn't enjoy, titles I wanted, titles I just did just for the money, jobs that I did for three months, others that I did for a little bit over a year. I tend to hide all these jobs because I was not very proud of. I know I did a good job. I know if I asked for references, I would get good ones. What was I actually fulfilled? Were I actually feeling that this job is where I can add the most value? I don't think so, or at least 90% of the time doing those jobs. I didn't feel that I am in the right place fulfilling my destiny and adding the most value and hitting my full potential. But here I am. I added all of them to my LinkedIn profile. Maybe because I don't care anymore if I get hired or if I get seen by another employer just to give me another SEO job. Well, if this is how LinkedIn sees me, if this is how employers make sense of me, then, why hide it? It all goes back to the same box, the same compartment that we call LinkedIn, and there is no need to hide it. If that's the place where I have to put a label on my bag to be sold on the shelves of goods, then let me put an accurate label. And the question now would be, will my next job be as fulfilling as I'm hoping? Will my next role and contribution to humanity be as fulfilling? And I feel appreciated as I always need to. But we will see from the coming days. But the pattern I noticed is that the months of July and November is where I tend to get hired. Not sure if it's a coincidence, but something worth noting.
I Finally Added Every Job to My LinkedIn Profile — Even the Ones I Was Ashamed Of
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Today I did something I never thought I would. I opened my LinkedIn profile and added every job I have ever held. All of them.
The three-month stints. The roles I took purely for the paycheck. The titles I wanted and the ones I settled for. Jobs I was proud of and jobs I quietly hoped no one would notice. I had been hiding the inconvenient ones for years, curating a cleaner story than the one I actually lived.
Here is the honest truth beneath all that editing: I knew I had done good work. If I called any of those employers today and asked for a reference, I would get one. The problem was never performance. The problem was fit. In roughly nine out of ten of those roles, I never felt like I was in the right place — never felt like I was adding the kind of value I was actually capable of, or moving toward anything that resembled a purpose.
So why was I hiding them? Partly fear. Partly the quiet shame of a career that looks scattered when laid out in a list. But mostly, I think, because LinkedIn reduces a human life to a shelf label, and I did not want my label to read the way my history actually reads.
Today I decided to let it read accurately.
If this platform is where employers come to make sense of me — to sort me into a category and decide whether I fit a box — then the least I can do is give them an honest box. Hiding the gaps and short tenures did not make me more hireable. It just made me less legible, even to myself.
The real question sitting underneath all of this is not about LinkedIn at all. It is about what comes next. Will the next role be one where I genuinely feel I am contributing something that matters? Will I feel seen — not just employed? I do not know yet. But I am done optimizing my profile for opportunities that would have felt the same as all the others.
One small pattern worth noting: nearly every time I have been hired, it has happened in July or November. Coincidence, probably. But when you spend a day staring at the full timeline of your working life, you start paying attention to the patterns no one else would ever think to look for.
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