The Source | From the Author
Mindset Shift • Emotional Health
Written by Voice Asian, Author of the memoir Empathy Deficits
Published: Sept 15, 2026 • 2 min read
I recently watched a TV series about a devoted family—a high school football coach dad who always put his family first. After years of sacrifice, including turning down career-defining offers, everything finally lined up. But just on the cusp of accepting his second-chance dream job and relocating for their new life, he suddenly passed away.
Perhaps the show ended tragically for impact, but I wished they had moved and fulfilled their dream.
I reflected on my early manuscript journey. A reviewer urged me not to leave readers hanging on those final lines, wanting a clear answer on what came next: would I keep pursuing software engineering? Or shift toward long-deferred passions—fostering a compassionate life, the very mission behind this memoir?
I reflected on my early manuscript journey. A reviewer urged me not to leave readers hanging on those final lines, wanting a clear answer on what came next: would I keep pursuing software engineering? Or shift toward long-deferred passions—fostering a compassionate life, the very mission behind this memoir?
At the time, I wasn’t ready to give a firm answer; I prefer not to make big declarations about the future. There are many stories without a definite ending—stories that grant the audience their own closure. Why couldn’t mine have an open ending? One of those “endless endings” where the journey simply continues beyond the page?
I wanted to share every detail with unvarnished honesty—not to dwell on toxic corporate culture, but to use my experience as a concrete example of the severe impact caused by a profound lack of empathy. Empathy is essential to life’s harmony, and through it, even suffering can be transformed into strength.
Yet, in the end, that reviewer’s critique validated my path. The foundation of any memoir—and the root of true empathy—is perceptual truth. What I felt, perceived, and endured in the thick of a toxic environment is immutable. That emotional weight is the journey I invite the reader to share. No external logic, corporate defense, or revisionist history can rewrite that reality.
Understanding someone’s motives years later doesn’t erase the impact of their actions at the time. My story belongs to who I was in that moment. New realizations belong in afterwords, but the original narrative must honor the truth as it was lived.
And when a story is understood for its true intent, empathy reaches its endless end.
Standing up for empathy inevitably invites non-constructive criticism—a predictable storm. But a lack of empathy in the world is never a reason to stop sharing; it is the exact reason to speak louder.
There are many ways to end a story, but an endless ending simply opens the door to many new ones. This memoir isn’t a closed chapter—it is just the beginning.