Why I’m Sharing This Story

This blog post is deeply personal—it was written by my husband, Mike, and shares the events that led to the end of our first business. That chapter of our lives shaped how I approach business law and emergency planning today. I invite you to read it not just as a cautionary tale, but as a reminder of what really matters when you’re building a business.

We Lived the Workaholic Entrepreneur Lifestyle—But Never Will Again
By Mike Kennedy

In April of 2011, Dawn and I decided to risk it all and start UNEQ Consulting. I had spent the previous 14 years working at the Army’s Maneuver Battle Lab as an Experimentation Manager in the Unmanned Systems Team. My team and I conducted experiments with small unmanned aircraft systems (drones) and unmanned ground systems. I loved my job, was good at it, and had earned a great reputation in the unmanned systems community.

But every day I still got up and went to work at a government agency. Bureaucratic BS prevails at all government agencies, and that was the part that troubled me. For months, I had a nagging feeling that I was faced with a choice: succumb to the bureaucracy and stay safe, or resign and do something different.

I chose different. I closed my 401k, sold all my stock options, and we launched UNEQ Consulting. Dawn agreed to keep working with the Army for a while longer.

We considered renting office space but ultimately decided to work from home. We set up downstairs offices and called it the world headquarters of UNEQ Consulting. It was fun in the beginning—I could work in my pajamas and never had to drive to the office. Our first year, we took a loss. But our second year? We made over $200,000.

The problem with working from home is you’re always at work. Soon, when the dogs got me up in the middle of the night, I would start working. From 2 or 3 a.m. until 8 or 9 a.m., I was at my desk. I’d take a short nap, then get right back at it.

But most of that work? Just busy work. I was constantly chasing clients. We had contracts with Georgia Tech Research Institute, DARPA, and several companies developing unmanned tech for the Armed Forces and first responders. We were making great money. But I was working 16–18 hours a day and spending nearly zero quality time with Dawn and the kids still at home.

It got worse when Dawn’s contract ended and she joined the company full-time, running operations. Her contributions were invaluable, but I had become an obsessed workaholic jerk. And obsessed workaholic jerks? They manufacture fights over nothing. That was me. And fight we did.

What’s worse than being that guy? Knowing you are and not caring. I kept telling myself it would all be worth it once we were making millions. Then the arguments wouldn’t matter.

In our third year, we were on track to make $375,000. And then, the best thing that ever happened to me… happened.

On Friday, November 1, 2013, I planned to spend the day with my two oldest sons at our training site prepping for an event with first responders. We stopped at a tire shop for Patrick’s car, and then Kevin and I went on ahead.

A few hours into setup, I climbed a ladder to about 18 feet to hang something on a light post.

I fell.

Eighteen feet. Landed on my head.

And in that one second, UNEQ Consulting died.

So did the obsessed workaholic jerk.

I didn’t die. But I suffered four skull fractures, a severed VIII Cranial Nerve, diffuse brain bleeding, and a catastrophic Traumatic Brain Injury. I spent the next 2.5 months in the hospital learning how to walk again.

In that one second, the business was gone. And I was gone too—the version of me that had taken over. It would take years to realize it, but that fall saved our marriage. We were forced to rebuild everything, starting with my health and our family.

Looking back now, over eleven years later, it’s clear: the accident was a gift.

UNEQ might have made millions. But more likely, Mike and Dawn would have divorced. And the obsessed workaholic jerk I was would be alone.

That, my friends, is not worth it.

What I Hope You Take Away

1. If you’re working 16–18-hour days and not spending quality time with the people you love—you are a workaholic. Stop. It is not worth it.

2. If work is all you think about and you’re missing your life and family—you are an obsessed workaholic. Stop. It is not worth it.

3. If you’re constantly fighting with the people you love over your obsession with work—you are an obsessed workaholic. Stop. It is not worth it.

4. If you don’t care anymore and think it will all be worth it when you “make it”—you are an obsessed workaholic jerk. Stop. It is not worth it.

Running your own business is only worth it if you keep the reason why you started front and center.

You want a better life for your family. You want your business to impact lives. You want to change the world. But what good is all of that if you lose yourself and your family in the process?

Protect What Matters Most

This story is the reason Dawn created her emergency legal resources and this YouTube video on closing a business in an emergency. You don’t have to wait for your world to fall apart to have a plan.

Your business deserves a solid foundation. So do you.