Annual reviews bring up a mix of complicated feelings.

Doubt, guilt, fear, frustration, indignation.

Hope, pride, appreciation, gratitude, compassion.

The emotions rise to the surface one by one or all at once—and then we must put on a brave face and push through our feelings so we can string sentences together and advocate for ourselves during the dreaded conversation. No matter whether the overall tone of the exchange is deflating or empowering—it is typically one of the tougher dialogues we experience in our careers.

While I haven’t had one of these reviews in a few years, I remember the internal conflict I would feel when it came time to hand my self-assessment (the part I could control), over to my supervisor who had the final say on my performance, compensation and professional development. In essence, I was relinquishing ownership of my own learning and growth.

Now, with distance from the experience and a boatload of new leadership tools, I know the way to avoid this uncomfortable scenario: Get ahead of it.

I work with clients to complete their own super secret annual reviews and professional development plans for the year to come. Here’s how we do it:

1. Start with an organizing principle—your values
In order to evaluate yourself, you need to know what you’re shooting for in your career. If your life and career are driven by a certain set of values—this would be a great place start. My personal values are courage, connection, inspiration, peace and fun, and to stay on track I make a list of all of the ways I’ve been in action around each of these values and the results that have come from these actions.

2. What did you learn and where can you improve?
This is my favorite part of the secret review. If you’re a human being, there are always things you can do better. Where in your career are you not living your values? Where are you not getting the results you want? Because nobody will ever see this document and it will not impact your compensation, you can feel free to be 100% honest. Plus, you’re evaluating yourself based on what’s important to you and not what’s critical to your company. Of course, if you’re in the right role these two sets of criteria would likely align. If they’re vastly different, that is data that can inform how you move forward.

3. How will you follow your curiosity in the coming year?
Start by asking yourself: What are the things that energize you, that bring you into flow? The things that when you’re doing them make you feel most like you? How can you add another dimension to that expertise? What are the things you want to learn that are disconnected from your current role, although your intuition is driving you there anyway? When generating this list of learning opportunities, note which items on the list feel like a "should" and which give you butterflies just imagining the possibilities. Next, map out the months of the year and note your curiosity focus for each month being sure to strike a balance between aspirational and practical. January will be storytelling while February could be sharpening public speaking skills. With a loose map, you can set your targets and allow yourself to flesh out the details at a later date.

When it comes to timing, I highly recommend doing your Super Secret Annual Review before you complete the self-assessment for your role. This way, you can allow your own review to inform the document for your company. Know that for your own review, you can throw around sentence fragments and simple language. There’s no need to spend extra time dressing it up. It’s for you, and only you know what you mean, at least most of the time. If it seems like an unnecessary step that you don’t have time for, remember that the one person responsible for driving your career forward (in the direction you choose) is you. Your boss and your company and your mentors may provide guidance and valuable input, but you are the only one who can put that data through the filter of what’s meaningful to you and decide on your best next move.

After graduating college and jumping into my first job as a Publicity Assistant at a local television station, I nurtured a blooming fantasy about one thing that was going to make or break my career. I dreamt up a mentor and together we moved mountains, broke glass ceilings and built up my confidence to a point where I was simply unstoppable.

She was the model of success I wanted to create for myself.

We met once a month to discuss my career evolution.

She weighed in on colossal decisions, providing counsel on how best to move forward.

She nudged me, pushed me farther than I thought I could go, and always kept my career path and my success top of mind.

The first ten years of my career exploded, and I rode the wave of my growing abilities and a changing industry. While I had inspiring bosses who cheered me on for a period of time and conversations with colleagues who saw something special in me and were candid about their own stories to help me learn from their experiences, I never found that one person I hoped would save me from whatever stuckness I stepped into along my path.

And I did get stuck for several years. I knew I needed a change but could not see a way forward. I blamed my mentor for not showing up to perform her duties and myself for not being able to find her.

Then, through a confluence of life events like a milestone birthday, a close friend imparting wisdom as he died of ALS and my growing bandwidth as my daughters moved out of baby neediness, I grew a visceral understanding that…

The only person responsible for my life and my career is me. Nobody is going to save me from the unhappiness, the missed opportunities, the stuckness. My Fairy Mentor Mother may not come.

Or perhaps she already has, but she looks different than expected…

We might just meet once a year or every two years, or maybe we only ever met once, but the conversation had a tremendous impact on me.

She may have been ten years younger than me, but offered me the right brilliance at the right time.

She may be a friend who is sometimes one chapter ahead and sometimes needing my support.

She may be a writer, a podcaster or Oprah.

She may be a he.

What I know now and wish I knew then is that I can find inspiration from anyone and anything. It’s up to me to be open to receiving these messages, taking them to heart and putting them into action. I can break out of the rigid mentor lore I painted in my mind so that I can have mentoring conversations when I least expect them or several times a week instead of only once a month. What a better deal for me and less pressure and time for all of my people. And I have so many people who step up to be there for me in the moments I need them. They don’t need titles to help me move mountains, break glass ceilings or build up my confidence to make me unstoppable. Love, gratitude, respect and taking a turn on the upside of the mentoring see-saw make us feel whole.

Sometimes after four interviews with seven different people, a presentation you spent a three-day weekend slaving over, a barrage of compliments that inflate your confidence toward only one outcome—you don’t get the job. You feel like you were thrown off a cliff, robbed of the future you were promised.

When this happens, I work with clients to acknowledge all they’re feeling.

Rejection: Why didn’t they want me?

Despair: I’m never going to find something as perfect as that role.

Anger: If they didn’t want me, why do they keep using all of the ideas I shared with them? (Side note: Employers, please stop using candidates ideas. And candidates, know that if you share your ideas, employers who may not choose you, may choose your ideas. I like to file this under the "not illegal, but very uncool" category of hiring tactics.)

Once you are one with your feelings, here are some ways you can get your mojo back in your search and in your career.

1. Reframe the loss
Just like finding the right partner, finding the right job is about fit. If you didn’t get the role, there was something that you have yet to uncover that didn’t make you a fit. It could be something on their end that they know about and you don’t, or something they’ve known about you all along that suddenly becomes important. In order for you to move on, it’s critical for you to know that it’s not that you’re not right for any role, rather you’re not right for that role. Your opportunity is out there waiting for you.

2. Ask for feedback
Once they let you know that you didn’t get the role, you can ask them for feedback that might be helpful as you continue your search. While hiring managers and recruiters give feedback a small percentage of the time, when you do get it, it can provide incredibly useful nuggets you can use to tweak your search or better understand how you can talk about the gaps in your experience. It can help you both learn how to do better next time AND clarify their decision-making process for going with someone else. Often times it makes the decision a lot more clear-cut when you realize, "It’s true, I don’t have that experience and if they’re looking for someone who’s done that, I wouldn’t have succeeded in that role."

3. Do a debrief of your performance
There is no perfect interview performance because there is no perfect human. Of course you did well enough to make it through several rounds of interviews, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing you could have done better. Give yourself some time to think through the answers where you may have stumbled or the points at which you talked and talked simply to fill the uncomfortable space. Or perhaps there was a point you went negative on a topic you had on your "Don’t mention these things" list. Make a list of areas you can improve and then spend some time tightening up responses—reframing topics that prompted you to unearth the skeletons—even if it’s simply fine-tuning. This is your chance to learn and take your interview skills to the next level.

4. Distill the essence of what you loved, seek it elsewhere
Go beyond the obvious to better understand what ignited you about that specific role or project. What do you really want that you thought this position could provide? Once you make a list of things that drew you like a magnet to this opportunity, realize that this job was one way of many to get you to those things. This list is your new set of marching orders for the next role you’re going to find. What are similar companies or industries where you may be able to look for a role with these things? It’s like having that great date with someone you know is not the one for you—but he or she helps you realize that this feeling and this person is out there for you and the trail of clues have been left for you to crack the case.

No matter how many times you go through this process of pulling yourself up, the rejection hurts. If you use career transitions and job searches as ways to validate your fears, insecurities and beliefs that the world is conspiring against you—you will find evidence to support all of these claims. And on the flip-side, if you realize they are opportunities to grow, to learn, to expand, and to try things that are outside of what feels comfortable and safe, you will find momentum and build that resilience muscle—capable of driving your success in parts of your life far beyond the scope of your career.

As a mom of a ten-year-old attending New York City public schools, I’ve joined the thousands of fellow NYC parents in navigating the middle school process to determine my daughter’s school for next year. For those in the burbs following along—no, there isn’t a middle school that she can just go to based on where she lives. There are in some parts of the city—but not ours. And so many of us attend 10 – 15 tours that are 2 hours each over a 2 month period, so we can rank 12 schools on our list in early December. I’ve decided 13 will be the lucky number of tours for our family and I will be attending 12 of those 13. Yes, mathematicians, I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. That’s a lot of f’ing time.

I gave our daughter Jane the option to join or not, and so far, she’s gone to nearly all of the tours on our list. One week into the process, we had tours for three nights straight—which for Jane meant grabbing dinner on the go and doing homework past her normal bedtime. On the third night, directly after school, chorus and Hebrew School—we walked over to the 6:30 tour, which was one block from our home. We were led into a packed auditorium that was filled to the balconies with tired parents and cranky kids. The principal began speaking about the middle school process and what she thinks about it. She went on for 20 precious minutes. I could feel the anger bubbling up as I thought, "I’m halfway through the process. If I don’t know about it by now, I’m in trouble. And after a long day with a tired kid, just tell me about your school so we can all go home and do what we need to do."

I felt myself stewing in resentment and then Jane turned to me and insisted, "Mom, THIS is a waste of my time. I want to go home."

We were in lockstep. I told her I would stay and let her know what she missed. She stood up in the auditorium packed with hundreds, including many of our friends and neighbors, while the principal continued in a flurry of irrelevance. She walked out and returned home.

My guess is that many parents would have been embarrassed in that moment—cringing at her every footstep and the bulky door crashing behind her—but pride washed over me. She gets it. At ten, she understands that her time and energy have meaning. They have value. And she respects her time enough to do what felt uncomfortable and perhaps against the rules to honor her self and her worth. Yes, tween girl feminist parenting win!

This moment stuck out to me more than most because I see many of my female clients struggle to value their time. They find themselves in overwhelm in their families or stuck in careers with no idea where to go next because they have no time to make a search—or themselves a priority.

Here are a few ways we work together to reclaim their value and their time:

1. Reframe
A wise coach recently asked me, "In the face of all of these time-consuming middle school tours, what can you celebrate about this time?" The answer was clear—more time with my daughter and a chance for us to work on a project together. Once I changed my view of the process, I have been—dare I say—having fun being with her and exploring new neighborhoods and possibilities. How can you look at the time you’re spending on things that seem like obligations in a way that truly enriches your life and helps you continue to learn?

2. Connect to your values
If you have not yet taken the time to choose your values, define what they mean to you and use them as a compass to drive your life decisions, know that this is a critical step toward helping you better value your worth and your time. If you have done this in the past, go through the exercise again to make sure that the values you choose speak to your life right now. Life happens and what was once unimportant to you—for example—before 2016, may be life altering now. I review everything on my calendar once a month to make sure my appointments are laddering up to my values. Read more about this in 5 Ways I Use My Values To Guide My Life.

3. Question cultural and gender norms
When I go to these middle school tours it’s hard not to notice that 90% of the parents in attendance are moms. It makes me angry and yet, there I am, the one in the family actively choosing to wrangle this process. My case may be slightly different in that I set my own hours, have a more flexible schedule and have reframed the process so I get something out of it—but it doesn’t make me less pissed off that as women and mothers, we continue to carry the administrative load of the household, what I like to call, "The Third Job." These are ongoing conversations in my home and I’m lucky to have a partner who works with me to challenge these assumptions. It’s not a given that because I’m the mom I’m going to take on all of this extra work to keep the family afloat. And if I do take this on, we work out what he can do to take something else off my plate—so that I can still fit in the things that are important in my work and my life.

In doing the leadership work I do with women, especially in what’s being called "The Year Of The Woman", I often feel the pressure to be a shining model of equity and to have this all figured out in my work, in my parenting and in my marriage. I often remind myself of what I say to clients, which is, "That added pressure is NOT helping you move forward or learn." We’re so hard on ourselves! The truth is that with 44 years’ experience in this culture, where in subtle and not so subtle ways a woman’s time and value are de-prioritized, I’m still in the process of figuring out how I can change what I ask for and how I ask for it while also inspiring others to do the same. I notice how my daughters are learning to do it differently—and how even the shortest, seemingly inconsequential moment can foreshadow the broadest impact. We simply need to notice it and step into the possibility it leaves wide open for us to acknowledge and spread the word.

During a naïve moment in the fall of 2016, I remember saying to my sister, "I’ve been talking to so many of my friends who are struggling with their parents’ ailments and I realized that’s one thing that won’t be part of our experience since our parents died when we were young." At the time, I had a narrow view of what defines a family caregiver and how someone steps into that role. A few short months later, my spry, healthy, beloved aunt had a stroke and then passed away after what seemed like the longest 80 days of our lives. My uncle who has Parkinson’s was left without his love and his minute-to-minute caregiver. My sister and I stepped in and I was the local one on the ground.

While also mourning, my first reaction to my new role was an unattractive combination of resentment and panic. I had two children, a new-ish business that I was still figuring out and many financial responsibilities. Plus, I wanted to do the best by my uncle and I truly had no clue how to manage his disease. The learning curve would be steep.

How was I going to take this on?
How was I going to do it at the level to which my aunt would approve?
How was I going to still give my kids what they needed?
How was I going to give my uncle what he needed with the little time I had?

Then I came out of my tizzy and realized I’ve accomplished amazing things in my life and can absolutely do this.

It may be messy.
The business will grow at a slower pace.
The kids will be bribed with ice cream to come on caregiving visits.

But this IS possible.

Here are the things I did to move out of overwhelm and into a rhythm that is working for everyone involved.

1. Get realistic about what you can do
In the period after my aunt’s stroke, I was visiting twice a week at least, which meant I was taking one or more week days off to be with my aunt and uncle. This took a serious toll on my business and I knew it wasn’t sustainable long-term. Also, my kids were beginning to truly miss me on weekends and if we brought them along, they became jealous of how much time I was spending with my uncle instead of with them. After my aunt passed, I knew I would need to be in touch more on the phone rather than being in-person as often. I still often feel pangs of guilt if I haven’t visited in a few weeks, but I know I’m doing the best I can.

2. Call in the experts
We knew my uncle would need home care as soon as my aunt had her stroke, so we made sure he was well cared for with the right people in place. Then, we hired a Geriatric Care Manager to help us coordinate and communicate with all of the doctors and the home care agency. It was a huge relief to know that we had someone on our team who knew all of the players, had done all of this work before and was one point of contact for everyone involved. While at first I wasn’t sure about adding this expense, I quickly realized that 1) she did a better and faster job of this work than I could ever do, so it was not as costly as I expected and 2) we could go back to being nieces and family support which is what everyone wanted. Now, since we’re also in the process of downsizing his home, we brought in a professional organizing team for reinforcements. I’m still on the ground doing a lot of work, but it’s helpful to know I don’t need to completely exhaust myself during this process and can get the help I need.

3. Ask for help
If you’re that person who is always helping others, now is the time when it’s OK to ask for help. My wonderful neighbors, friends and family have been a tremendous help in watching my kids—and now the puppy—while I take care of the things I need to do for my uncle. Also, it’s OK for you not to do it all. Ask other family members or friends of the family where they may be able to pitch in. They may not be able to take anything on—and that’s OK—but you won’t know unless you ask.

4. Put your (oxygen) mask on first
When you’re navigating everyone else’s priorities, make sure self-care is somewhere near the top of your list. You’re going to need energy to pull all of this off. If you need to take a walk in the park or finish writing your article before returning a phone call to the Geriatric Care Manager, do it. You know you will get it all done, but your refuel time is necessary to doing just that. Sometimes self-care means setting boundaries as well. I’m currently touring 13 middle schools with my 10-year-old, so on those weeks where I feel like I’m going to combust with logistics, I tell my uncle and everyone in his world I’m going to be out of touch this week.

5. Look for the lesson
As I hear from clients and friends, caregiving can include many, "Why me?" moments. Moments where we look around and say, "Can the real grownups stand up and take care of all of this for me?" It’s at these times where I take that question to a deeper level. Truly, why me? What am I meant to learn right now? How can this experience change me as a person? As a niece, a mom, a wife, a coach and a friend, I have now become a resource for many who are going through a crisis with their aging parents. When I can make an impact on others’ lives with the knowledge I’ve picked up along the way, it reminds me that part of the lesson is that this is not just about me. There is a world of people going through this who think they are alone right now and they’re not. You’re not. There are ways we can figure this out together.

Even with all of these learning moments, there are times where the needs kick up a level again and I find myself back in overwhelm. It’s at these times when I remember, "this is temporary" and I can tone down some of what I’m doing on other fronts. I can scale back on the business for a month or so and say no to more social events that aren’t my highest priority. But what I won’t do is use these busy caregiving times as a reason to say, "This is impossible." Or, "I’m never going to have the chance to focus on my business." It’s not. I will and I am. I know that this is part of what I’m both meant to learn and meant to teach, and often the lesson is in doing it in a way that still feels like me.

After a glorious weekend with family and friends, where perhaps there was time spent in the park, at the movies, drinking wine or revving up with a run or long walk—by 4ish pm on Sunday, something changes. Full hearts and energized minds make way for the stomach pit, the swirl and chest constriction. Our children and friends are still in their weekends. They’re making jokes, doing tricks on the monkey bars and attempting everything within their power to summon our attention. Because it’s clear, we’re not there.

We’re in to-do lists, high-stake meetings, rehashing Friday mistakes, imagining worst-case scenarios—essentially stewing in a bad case of the Sundays.

Know that whether you are in a toxic work situation or in a job you love in which you may be taking on more responsibility—this is an absolutely understandable reaction to winding down your time off and reigniting your week. That said, there are some things you can do to proactively handle the anxiety that is robbing you of the last chunk of your weekend.

Here are a few ways I approach the Sundays with clients so that they have a leg up on the week ahead:

1. Hold a Sunday planning meeting
Instead of wondering how you’re going to do it all in the week in front of you, get honest and in action about a plan to do so. Schedule time for an hour on Sunday where you can contain your planning for the week. It can be any time that works for you—feel free to experiment with different times of day. This way, you have one focused hour, where you make your to-do list, set intentions for meetings throughout the week and know what you need to prepare ahead of time instead of walking into a shit-storm without a plan. Your planning meeting also gives you the opportunity to shut down your anxiety throughout the rest of the day with a simple, "I don’t have to focus on that now. I’ll handle it in my planning meeting later today."

2. Create a Sunday mantra
Use Sunday as an opportunity to practice presence and as a chance to build up your resilience muscle. You have this in you. You do it every week. Now celebrate yourself moving through a tough day with strength and compassion. When I take my daughters and the puppy for a walk on Sunday evening after dinner, and I feel a moment of the weight of what I have to do, I like to say something as simple as, "Be here now." I notice smiles, giggles and tail wagging, and keeping focused on these details helps me return to the moment.

3. Add self-care time into Sunday
Do SOMETHING that energizes you on Sunday. For me, it’s a walk in Prospect Park. Simply being in nature offers up the peace that can be an antidote for the churn of Sunday overwhelm. If you say yes to things that are everyone else’s priority and no to the things that are meaningful to you—you are setting that reactive tone for the week. When you give yourself time to do things that refuel you, you can put those fragmented parts of your mind back together to start the week as a whole human.

4. Block out time for a slow Monday morning (if possible)
If you are even mildly in charge of your work day and schedule, make a practice of blocking out one to two hours on Monday morning to have a slow start. Focus on catch up tasks and say hello to colleagues and your team if that’s something that energizes you. When I was in a corporate office, I used to think of this time as "relationship building" hours when I would catch up on people’s weekends and see how they’re doing. Connection is one of my top values, so it makes sense to me now that this is where I focused my time to recharge on Monday am. Now that I have my own business, I spend most of my Monday mornings writing. No big surprise, but I get my best article ideas on the weekends so I’m usually hungry to get writing once Monday morning hits. It’s a way for me to ease into the week doing something I love.

If you begin feeling the Sundays at 10 am or blasphemy—Saturday night, it may be best to seek some professional help to work through the anxiety that’s coming up for you. Whether it’s a bad boss, a role that’s a wrong fit or simply knowing it’s time to move on—when your work pressure takes over your entire life—it’s time to look into what’s going on. As painful as it can be, that anxiety is your body trying to send you the message, "Buddy, we’re not OK. Investigate ASAP." We often think our minds are leading the way, but truly it’s our bodies that have all the answers—and when we listen, we are rewarded with the peace we seek.

Last week I went into my daughter’s 5th grade classroom for the school’s once a month Family Friday. Jane’s creative teacher chose the perfect activity for the morning. The kids traced their arm and hand ahead of time on white paper and then that day each parent/child pair collaborated on words and images that described the 9 or 10-year-old and used them to adorn the arm drawing. The parent’s job in this exercise was to "remind each child how he or she is unique and amazing." In reading this out loud, Jane remarked, "This is going to be really easy for us, Mom." Self-confidence, check!

We fueled her arm with powerful and accurate words.

Imaginative | Brave | Kind | Mathematical | Musical | Joie de Vivre!

And then we tied it all together with a rainbow background highlighting the boldness with which she leads her life.

I walked away from the school and into my day’s work filled with joy from end to end of my person. Not only proud to have a daughter who is all of these things, but beaming to have one who still knows she is all of these things.

Then something struck me. We didn’t write beautiful or pretty. Oh no! I hope she knows she’s beautiful. I hope she knows I think she is. And then I realized—it didn’t occur to either of us because in the context of school, in this moment, that is not yet a priority.

Even in my gratitude for age 10, I’m not naïve enough to think this priority shift isn’t around the corner. The hormones, the research, my own experience and that of my clients help me see what we’re up against.

I had an early intro to the importance of beauty by a mom who struggled with her weight her entire life and started putting me on diets by age 5. It was all she knew. It was the best she could do, and I’ve needed to find my own closure with it given my parents’ passing when I was 11. I will never have that in-person conversation with her to discuss how her fraught relationship with my body impacted my life and while it’s difficult to admit, in some ways that has helped me move on. When I have the conversation in my head, I get the chance to say everything I need to say, and nobody disagrees or gets defensive.

I’ve found my peace with my body and I talk with my own daughters about bodies in a completely different way than my mom did. Food is about fuel and energy, bodies are built to be strong and they all look different.

And yet—my appearance has always been a dimension of how impostor syndrome shows up for me in my career, and I know that is also the case for many of my clients. The inundation of flawless female imagery in our faces from birth to present infiltrates our personal lives, but we rarely acknowledge how it shows up in our careers.

Curly hair feeling unruly and unprofessional.

Imperfect skin, feeling exposed in front of an audience.

Curvy bodies snuggly fitting into work clothes one size too small (or more).

Here are a few ways I help my clients work through this flavor of fear as it comes up for them:

1. Move toward compassion and acceptance
In my early thirties, I started practicing what I called "curly acceptance." This is the hair I was given, so let me take a little time to figure out how to make it work—and even make it part of my personal brand. For higher stakes meetings and presentations, I figured out a go-to style that makes me feel professional in any circumstance (or weather pattern). I like a slicked-back bun that is no-fuss on long days with multiple meetings. Also, if you’re currently a different size than your wardrobe, make sure you have some things to wear that fit well and make you feel great. Self-judgment and punishment do not make a leader. The more you remove that pressure and find beauty and acceptance in where you are right now, the more you can inspire others to do the same.

2. Question and resist unrealistic beauty standards wherever possible
As someone who grew up devouring beauty magazines, I don’t keep any in my home. I try to keep fashion, cosmetics and any other industry ads that depict women unrealistically away from my two daughters as much as possible. And when we see billboards or Barbie’s for that matter, I like to point out that those images and bodies don’t exist, that they’re altered and that it’s not our destiny to look like those images. When it comes to playing this out in careers, I work with people to focus on their personal brands and personal styles—rather than the latest trends or fitting into a certain size. What are the parts of your style that are both professional and make you feel like you?

3. Replace thoughts about beauty with those about health and longevity
Step outside the subjective lens of beauty to focus on what you truly can measure: your health. Make sure you’re up to date with all the necessary tests from your primary care physician (cholesterol, blood pressure, etc.) and if you want to make changes in your diet or lifestyle—make moving the needle on those factors your goal. When the way you feel in your pants during a presentation triggers a thought about your appearance, counteract that thought in the moment with your knowledge of your health data and the path you’re on to live a long healthy life. The longer you live, the greater impact you can make. The way you look in your pants has no effect on your contribution to the world.

The key to moving through some of your career beauty blocks is to begin noticing when you’re triggered. Is it when you’re meeting with senior leaders? Is it when those senior leaders are female? Is it when you don’t plan your outfit in advance and show up with two different shoes? This is hypothetical, of course. The more you hone your awareness of what brings out your self-judgy ways, the more you can proactively reframe those thoughts and remind yourself, that like anything—our culture’s expectation of how women should look, feel and be is a construct, and WE get to choose whether we buy into it. Or not.

As a power user and all-around fan of LinkedIn; as a coach who demands all of her clients get on the platform in order to enhance the work we will do—I must get something off my chest.

People are using LinkedIn in a way that abuses trust, annoys active and non-active members alike and is irritating enough to scare away swaths of loyal fans to another platform that is likely to creep up any day now.

LinkedIn team, I hope this is keeping you up at night. I hope you’re currently in meetings to save your solid professional networking and publishing platform. It’s been critical to helping me build my business, find a voice and audience, and help my clients foster relationships resulting in hundreds of job opportunities.

I’ve heard the frustration among loyal users –

Don’t connect with me so you can try to instantly sell me something.

Or more simply put –

Stop trying to sell to me!

As someone who has expanded my business and found new corporate and individual clients on LinkedIn, I have a slightly different perspective founded on the same frustrations.

In my mind—effective sales stems from a combination of listening, providing value and building a relationship. 99% of the solicitations I receive on LinkedIn ignore this approach entirely, so alas—we are where we are.

Whether it’s getting on the phone with a "publisher" interested in my becoming one of their authors, only for her to reveal half way through the call that she’s never read anything I’ve written.

Or when I get a long message from the founder of what might as well be called clueless.com about connecting with other like-minded CEO’s of mid-sized high tech consultancies. Dude, have you looked at my profile?

I often describe my coaching and leadership style as a combination of snark and hope—and to be honest, this inundation of spaghetti at the wall pitches has amped up my snarkiness to a level I’m not always proud of, but I’m human and a New Yorker, so it happens.

When one small business consultant reached out to ask me for a call to discuss the secret to my success in creating a profitable business I love, I responded:

"In short—saying no to things that aren’t a priority! Good luck!"

It may be just me, but I still giggle at that one.

On the flip side, if you want to use LinkedIn to build your business and attract new customers instead of sending them into a tizzy and off the platform, focus on these three things.

1. Long-term relationship building always wins
On a date, would you go in for the lip (or even tongue) kiss after exchanging hellos? If you would, we have bigger problems than your sales technique, but in focusing on sales for now, know that relationships take time to build. If you send a LinkedIn request and the other party accepts, it’s fine to send a longer description about who you are and the value you offer clients—but if you try to close them on something in this next note, you are missing a key opportunity to build their trust. Let them get to know you via your content contributions on the platform and begin to better understand their needs via theirs. Have patience. Give space. Not everyone moves at your pace.

2. ABPV: Always Be Providing Value
When you offer up meaningful contributions via articles, comments or even sharing others’ content, you are seen as a resource rather than someone who is simply hungry to close me or get my business. Yes, it’s time consuming and yes, it’s slower—but I can tell you first hand—I’m cultivating deep relationships with people on the platform because I show up consistently, I listen to their challenges and I mine my experience and my training for targeted solutions. This way, when people come to me via LinkedIn, they feel like they know me, and they often tell me it feels like I know them. Listen, research and pay attention to your ideal clients. This is the way to get to that coveted position.

3. Start with a point of contact
As is the case offline—referrals matter. Find points of contact with your ideal clients and work with your contacts to help you connect with them. Of course, after you do connect with them, please note step one and don’t rush to close. Your contacts may not offer up your ideal clients, but they do offer a viable place to start and return to when you’re feeling stuck. Remember to make it easy for your contacts to help you. Send them a note with everything they need to forward so they don’t have to spend time writing something that may end up being off-message for you. Show gratitude with your network, don’t exhaust them and refer to point two in offering them value. Take them for coffee or lunch, or provide them a complimentary hour of whatever you offer.

I’ve wanted to write this article for awhile in response to all of the one-off feedback notes I’ve been sending my solicitors (that are all over the map on the spectrum of coachy to…not). I offer these words in the hopes of saving one of my favorite tools from well meaning, ambitious participants who may not be aware that they’re coming across as bottom-feeders. But this is not to say I’m doing in perfectly either. We’re all figuring it out, but I know how I feel when I get these pitches. For those of you out there sending them, I want you to know how I perceive them. And if you’ve read even half of this article perhaps you will take my advice. Listen.