Have you ever been punished for being honest? If you're someone who has trusted an employer with your vulnerability only to be shown where you really stand, or if you're wondering whether loyalty goes both ways, this story will validate your experience and show you what comes next.
In February 2024, I learned that workplace loyalty is often a one-way street. And that lesson, as painful as it was, became the catalyst for everything I'm building now.
"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke
The Diagnosis That Changed Everything
Early January 2024. My wife was diagnosed with breast cancer.
One week, we were planning our future. The next week, we were planning treatment schedules, meeting oncologists, and trying to process words like "chemotherapy" and "radiation" and "surgery."
I had been working in Quality Assurance for a tech company for two years. I had three managers. Our relationships were solid. No performance issues. No conflicts. Everything was good terms.
But now everything had changed. My wife needed me. She had already quit working when she got the diagnosis, knowing she'd need to focus entirely on treatment and recovery.
I knew I needed to be honest with my employer. I needed to be at every appointment—the consultations, the treatments, the follow-ups. I couldn't just hope they'd understand when I needed to leave. I needed to have the conversation upfront.
So on February 1st, 2024, I set up a meeting with my three managers.
The Conversation
I sat down with all three of them and said exactly what I needed to say:
"My wife has been diagnosed with cancer. I need to be at all her appointments. I'd like a flexible work schedule, and I'm willing to work weekends to make up the difference if needed."
I wasn't asking for special treatment. I wasn't asking to work less. I was asking for flexibility so I could be there for the person I love during the scariest time of our lives.
Their response was immediate and reassuring: "Sure, we can do that."
I walked out of that meeting feeling relieved. Grateful. Supported. I had been honest, they had been understanding, and we had a plan.
I went back to work. Normal workload. Same relationships. Everything felt stable.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." - Proverbs 3:5
The Email
February 8th, 2024. 10:00 AM.
I received an email from the department head—my managers' manager. He wanted to meet in person at 3:00 PM that day.
No context. No agenda. Just "let's meet."
At 3:00 PM, I walked into that meeting. The department head got straight to the point:
"We're letting you go due to budget cuts."
Seven days. It had been exactly seven days since I told them about my wife's cancer and asked for help.
I asked the obvious question: "Is this about my work performance and my situation?"
"Yes, it's due to work performance and budget cuts," he said. "But not because of your situation."
Not because of my situation. Seven days after I disclosed my situation.
I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
The Drive Home
I walked out of that building knowing three things:
First: I had just lost my job.
Second: My wife was starting chemotherapy that month and we had no health insurance.
Third: I had no idea how we would pay for any of it.
The first chemotherapy treatment bill arrived shortly after: $80,000.
Eighty. Thousand. Dollars.
For one treatment.
I made phone calls—so many phone calls. We got COBRA insurance, and it kicked in retroactively to cover February. We didn't have to pay the $80,000, but COBRA came with its own costs: premium prices and a high deductible we had to pay out of pocket.
That night, I came home and told my wife as soon as I walked in the door. We prayed together.
But here's what I didn't do: I didn't blame God. I didn't ask "Why is this happening to us?"
Instead, I asked: "Why not us? And who can we help because of this in the future?"
What I Learned About Loyalty
That experience taught me something I'll never forget: workplace loyalty is often a one-way street.
Companies will talk about family, culture, and caring for their people. But when it comes down to it, you're a number. You're an expense line on a budget spreadsheet. You're replaceable.
I had given two years of solid work even working on holidays without holiday pay. No performance issues. Good relationships. Honest communication.
But the moment I showed vulnerability and asked for help, I became disposable.
After that, I made a decision: I will never have workplace loyalty again.
Not because I'm bitter. Not because I want to be a bad employee. But because I understand now that the relationship is transactional. They will dispose of me whenever they see fit and replace me with someone cheaper.
So why should I build my life around someone else's bottom line?
The Redirect
That job loss became the catalyst for everything I'm building now.
During those 10 months without income while my wife went through treatment, I wrote "Mindset Metamorphosis." I didn't write it because I had free time or because I thought it would make money. I wrote it because I needed to process what we were going through, and I knew others were going through similar struggles.
That book became the foundation for my mission: to help people transform their thinking and take action for a better life—especially when life doesn't go according to plan.
I tried different business ideas. Most didn't stick. But the writing did. The teaching did. The sharing of real experience from real struggle did.
Now I'm building an author business. I'm working two jobs right now to pay bills and debt, but I'm building something that's mine. Something that can't be taken away by a budget cut or a manager's decision.
I don't want to work for a company in the future. I want to work for myself, for my mission, for the people I can help with what I've learned.
Your Disposable Moment
Right now, you might be learning the same lesson I learned. Maybe you:
- Trusted an employer with your vulnerability and got punished for it
- Gave years of loyalty only to be let go without hesitation
- Discovered that "we're a family" only applies when it's convenient
- Realized you're more replaceable than you thought
Here's what I want you to know: That realization, as painful as it is, is also liberating.
You don't owe them more than they're willing to give you. You don't have to sacrifice your life for someone else's profit. You don't have to stay small to make them comfortable.
What you do with that realization is up to you:
Build something that's yours. Whether it's a business, a skill, a platform, or just a mindset shift—invest in assets you control.
Diversify your value. Don't put all your security in one employer's hands. Multiple income streams mean multiple safety nets.
Know your worth. If they don't value you, someone else will. And if no one will, value yourself enough to create your own path.
Use the pain as fuel. That job loss could have destroyed me. Instead, it redirected me. Your disposable moment can become your defining moment.
As someone who has authored books, building a business, and learned to create value on my own terms, I can tell you: the freedom of not needing their approval is worth more than the security of their paycheck.
When you're ready, here's how I can help you:
Purchase my book "Mindset Metamorphosis"—the complete guide I wrote during those 10 months without income while my wife fought cancer. It's about transforming your thinking and taking action when life doesn't go according to plan, written by someone who lived it.
Remember: Feed your mind. Fuel your actions. Find your fire.
DK Kang
Author | Wellness Advocate | Plant-Based Athlete | LMT
dk@dkkang.com
www.dkkang.com
