My Naivete About Empathy
While I have always recognized that empathy is an uncomfortable practice that reveals challenging truths, I allowed the discomfort to pull me away from its human-centered purpose and toward transactional, capitalistic goals. In the relentless chase to keep money flowing into the company bank account, to support my amazing coaches, to put food on the table, and to keep health insurance cards in our wallets, I compromised the soul of the human-centered practice I claimed to champion.
I allowed the discomfort to pull me away from its human-centered purpose and toward transactional, capitalistic goals.
I didn’t tell leaders when their behavior was absolutely unacceptable. I allowed racist and sexist actions to go unchecked. I failed to challenge employees to grow up, and I let narcissistic-like leadership behaviors persist because…I needed them to sign the contract and issue the payment. Many of these contract signers, I suspect, sensed my fear. Some didn’t sign. Others walked away, lowballed me, or demanded more proof that ’empathy will make my people more productive.’ I caved—out of fear, for my family—and in doing so, I built a sales cycle of ’empathy practice’ that I couldn’t sustain or believe in.
While my approach with Empathy Lab and the Empathy Decathlon wasn’t an ’empathy washing’ of these companies and organizations, some asked me to compromise in ways I couldn’t scrub off in a hot shower. My heart wasn’t in it because I failed to create boundaries. I let them challenge not just me but the very core of empathy practice. I allowed those unwilling to engage—from leaders to interns—to poison the practice for others.
Let me be clear: empathy practice is NOT a tool to make you more money. Empathy practice is a commitment to making life in community with others more bearable, more meaningful, and less stressful. It is not a guarantee, but it is a practice that promises progress—for those willing to show up and do the work.
Empathy isn’t a tool to make you more money—it’s a practice to make life in community more meaningful and less stressful.
The 2025 Now What for Empathy Lab:
It’s time to push back so I can push forward. The era of staying silent is over. From here on out, I will speak up, call out harmful behaviors, find clarity and focus, gather my community, and lead with unapologetic action.
- People Over Profits: Empathy Standups are back, and this time, they’re open to everyone. Local ATL free standups? Absolutely—sponsored by the people, for the people. Empathy isn’t for sale; it’s for practice, growth, and collective healing.
- Expose and Act: Bad behaviors? They don’t get a pass anymore. With tools like the BadBoss.Club survey, it’s time to shine a light on toxic leaders, middle managers, and bosses who undermine their teams. Accountability is here, and it starts now.
- Invest in Those Who Show Up: I’m done chasing corporations, companies, or individuals who aren’t ready to do the work. My energy is for those who show up, roll up their sleeves, and commit to practicing empathy. Progress belongs to the brave, and that’s where my focus will be.
The road ahead isn’t about compromise; it’s about conviction. Empathy is messy, but it’s worth it. Together, we can create something far better than just productive teams—we can build communities where everyone feels seen, heard, and valued. Let’s move forward, together.
It’s time to push back so I can push forward.
The era of staying silent is over.
Personal Practice: Choosing to No Longer Be an Empathetic Doormat
A big part of my practice now is reclaiming empathy with boundaries—choosing to no longer be an empathetic doormat. I’ve been reflecting with myself, friends, and family about how many of us were raised to be polite, respectful children and young adults. These lessons, while well-intentioned, often left us unprepared for adulthood, where we find ourselves overburdened and exhausted by the weight of others’ baggage, cultural oppression, and misdirected shame.
Many of us navigate this weight by staying highly functional and productive, yet inside, we feel empty—running on fumes, scrambling to hold ourselves together. We all cope differently, and many of us dream of the day when we are no longer burdened or treaded on by others. The hard truth? Often, we allow it.
Now, I choose to set empathetic boundaries. These boundaries aren’t stone walls—they’re like sci-fi force fields: flexible yet firm, actively deflecting negative energy while inviting the positive. But setting them isn’t easy. Those who are used to our old, endlessly giving ways will resist, question, and even criticize these changes. That’s okay. Without these boundaries, we leave ourselves open—vulnerable to those who purposefully exploit us or unintentionally take advantage.
This isn’t about shutting others out;
it’s about letting the right energy in.
This isn’t about shutting others out; it’s about letting the right energy in and conserving our own strength. It’s about creating space to breathe, to rest, to refuel—and, ultimately, to connect in ways that are sustainable and mutual.
Note: This was written with the help of ChatGPT. My personal objective is to be a bit more forward and raw in the way I share myself which sometimes is convoluted, confusing, and chaotic. This post is originally based on my personal journal rants and ramblings.
Hello, I am Shelton. 