Every worthwhile goal demands sacrifice. Building something great, something lasting is a relentless, all-consuming pursuit. It's a cost that most aren't willing to pay. Florida’s own, Kyle Hanslovan knows this price well. He built an empire, standing atop a sleek tech company. Yet, for the first time in a decade, he's pausing — just for a moment— to ask himself: was it worth it?
Nearly ten years ago, Kyle took on the title of "founder." Back then, Huntress was little more than a few world-class former hackers with a simple yet critical mission: protect small and mid-sized businesses from cyber threats. Maybe not the flashiest ambition in the world, but of time and essence. These businesses were left defenseless, easy prey for malicious hackers, without the financial muscle to fight back. Kyle, a former NSA Cyber Warfare Operators saw an opportunity to use his highly specialized skills for something meaningful—and, as it turned out, immensely profitable. Huntress succeeded beyond even his wildest expectations.
Financially, Kyle has won. Philanthropically, he's made a real impact. It's the ultimate entrepreneurial dream: doing well while doing good. But dreams have a way of exacting their own toll. He's proud, yes. But he's also painfully aware of what the journey has cost him. His three kids, his (now ex) wife, and even his sense of self fall casualty to his unrelenting grind.
"CEO is the loneliest job in the world," he admits. Nearly a decade of eighty-hour workweeks might earn you a headline in Forbes, but it won't build a balanced life. Not that Kyle ever believed in balance. "Work-life balance is a total myth. You can't possibly give everything equal attention at all times." Instead, he's learned that life moves in phases. There's no perfect equilibrium—only shifts in focus. It took losing too much to understand that.
Now, with a new partner and a small window of time left before his kids grow up, he's determined to use what remains wisely. Having battled his demons and built up his bank account, Kyle is looking ahead to his next chapter. But before he moves forward, he's determined to help the next generation of entrepreneurs avoid the same brutal mistakes. What would Kyle change if given the opportunity to do it all over again? He points to five hard-earned lessons.
The first is don't bring your CEO energy home. In the early years, Kyle treated his family like he treated his employees—direct, results-driven, unwavering. "I thought being 'authentic' meant showing up as the same person in both places. I was wrong." Work demands decisiveness. Family requires presence, patience, and a softer touch. The cost of learning that lesson? His marriage.
The second is that your job is not your hobby. It's easy to convince yourself that you don't need anything else if you love your work. That's a lie. "I was lucky—my work aligned with my passion. But for years, it was my only passion. That made me a painfully one-dimensional person." Now, he seeks out other pursuits — concerts, date nights, vacations, and time on the track with Lamborghini x Forte Racing — not as distractions but as essential to creating a full life.
The third is you may think you want an empire, but are you ready to pay for it? The grind of building a billion-dollar company isn't just exhausting—it's all-consuming. "I always tell young entrepreneurs: are you sure you want something this big? Could a smaller, more manageable business still give you the life you want?" Success is a seductive illusion, but the sacrifices it demands are real.
The fourth is that time is the most valuable currency. At the start, trading time for money seems logical. It's the price of growth. But time is the one thing you can never earn back. "Huntress is worth $1.56 billion" Kyle Says, "But my family is priceless. We all say we understand this, but time doesn’t wait. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.” As a father, that realization stings. All he can do now is make the time he has left count—and warn others not to make the same trade so recklessly.
And finally the fifth is to give and take direct, honest communication. Radical candor, Kim Scott's philosophy of giving clear, honest feedback, became the foundation of Huntress's culture. But Kyle realized something even more critical... it's just as important to receive it. "I need people to call me out—my team, my partner, my kids. I can't grow if I only dish it out and never take it."
Kyle Hanslovan is a success by every metric that business school textbooks would measure. But the real test isn't how much money he's made—it's whether he can take the lessons of his first act and apply them to his next. He's betting that the answer isn't in more work, more growth, or more grind. It's something far more complex. It's the everyday choice to build more than just a business but a life worth living.