My LinkedIn Profile and the "Chief Justice of Book Disputes"

Today, I opened LinkedIn. Just a casual scroll. Big mistake.

One by one, the profiles of old friends started appearing. And Allahumma barik, they are doing well. Very well.

“Senior Strategy Manager.”

“Head of Global Operations.”

“Director of Innovation.”

I saw promotions, high-level achievements, and photos of keynote speeches at conferences. There were big corporate words I don’t even fully understand anymore. And then, there was me.

The Identity Gap

My profile hasn’t had a title update in years. There is no career ladder here—just a mountain of laundry and a messy kitchen. For a moment, I felt it: that sharp, cold sting of comparison.

What if I had chosen differently?

What if I hadn’t paused everything for this life?

Am I becoming… small?

Right on cue, a voice thundered from the other room: “MAMAAAA! He took my book!”

Ah, yes. My current promotion has arrived: Chief Justice of Book Disputes.

The Invisible Resume

Just like that, reality snapped back into focus.

I didn’t choose a “small” life. I chose a different one. It’s a life that doesn’t show up on a digital profile. There are no skills to “endorse” on LinkedIn for the way you soothe a child who has had a nightmare, or the way you navigate a chronic illness flare-up while still making sure the pantry is stocked.

There are no certificates for building a home that feels like a sanctuary.

The Barakah of the “Unseen”

I still feel it sometimes—that “What If.” I think we all do. We live in a world that only values what it can measure in a bio or a paycheck.

But I’m learning that Barakah doesn’t always look like “Success” on a screen. Sometimes, it looks like a loud, messy living room in Sharjah. It looks like children who come to you first because you are their “Safe Harbor.” It looks like a life that is exhausting precisely because it is so full.

If I updated my LinkedIn today, it would probably just say: “Surviving, Multitasking, and Still Standing.”

And honestly? That’s an executive position I’m finally proud to hold.

What is the highest “Executive Position” you hold in your home today? Whether you are the ‘Chief of Laundry Logistics’ or the ‘Head of Toddler Negotiations,’ I’d love to celebrate your invisible resume in the comments.