It has been three weeks since I started at Idea Couture and, not surprisingly three weeks since LinkedIn and I started arguing about whether or not we need counseling. She says we do, complaining that I don’t pay enough attention to her anymore. That’s not entirely true. I do spend some quality time with her once a day, at least on weekdays.

But she’s changed. Week after week it seems as if she’s showing a new side, one that surprises me (and not in a unanimously great way). Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I can see it on her face: one day it’s ‘who checked your profile’ and ‘your name came up on x-amount of searches’ on the left, a couple of days later it’s on the right; one day a pop-up mysteriously appears (and stays, thus far) asking me what I’m up to right now (like I can break my NDA pre-nup, right?); then, all of a sudden, I don’t have to peek into her contacts to find out who has just linked up because it’s right there, in my face; and don’t even talk to me about the new man in her life last week, boldly asking me from a questioning face that’s never been present in our personal space about how we can encourage more students to enrol in science and technology courses. Like that’s what he’s really interested in!

I have to admit, though, that I, too, have changed. Or maybe it’s that the relationship has changed. It’s not that I don’t need her any more. I love LinkedIn. I can’t quite keep up with how she keeps changing her looks week after week, but it’s what’s inside that counts, right? I fell in love with that the very day that my brother introduced me to her in the spring. Yeah, I knew she’d been around the block for a few years before our first days together but, after refusing so many introductions to MySpace and realizing that I just didn’t have the kind of commitment (and interest) it would take to make it work with Facebook, that didn’t matter. Because at that moment in my life I knew LinkedIn was the one for me. And so I spent hours with her that first week, courting her with carefully crafted words that, I hoped, would forever enamour her to me. But sometimes forever isn’t, well, forever.

I do have to thank her for getting me in the door at a number of places where I met some interesting people (and some people who wore slacks, worked in cubicles and got there via HR) who talked about what we could do together. In the end, however, it was a life pre-her that came knocking, talked to me about my passions, skills and insights fitting into a new business model, gave me a desk (and a phone, and a light, and a filing cabinet, and more!) and set me off on a cross-Canada road trip to learn about something that my pre-nup demands I keep quiet. In part, I credit the energy I put into my relationship with her for creating the karmic powers that led me to where I am now.

Looking back I realize that, yes, I used her. But hasn’t everybody? It’s not like it’s over, though. People change. Jobs change. I wouldn’t be surprised if, one day, we rediscover that first spark that set us (okay, me) on fire. If we do, I hope it leads to something that’s as exciting as the one I’m in now, a place in my life that conjures the passion of those first few days in the warm embrace of LinkedIn.

Until then, I am introducing a close girlfriend to her in hopes that, together, they can make the magic happen. And another girlfriend will soon be revisiting her to, hopefully, make up in ways that will similarly transform a professional situation. Best of luck to all three.