As I sat in my cozy home office in Seattle, staring at the rainy drizzle outside, I couldn’t help but reflect on how my career had taken such an unexpected turn. After spending over a decade climbing the ranks at Avalara, a company I poured my heart into—watching it go from a promising startup to a tech giant that went public and even survived an $8.4 billion private equity deal in 2022—I thought I’d settled into a comfortable groove as their chief legal officer. But life has a way of tossing curveballs your way, and for me, it was the growing frustration with estate taxes that completely reshuffled my priorities. Maybe it started with those late-night conversations with friends and family, all affluent professionals like me, who were blissfully unaware of how Washington’s aggressive estate tax could erode generations of hard-earned wealth. I remember one particularly eye-opening moment when I learned about my own potential vulnerabilities—assets I’d built through years of working as a CPA at Deloitte and then as a corporate attorney at Perkins Coie. It dawned on me that so many people were sleepwalking into financial heartbreak, losing family inheritances to taxes without even realizing it. That’s when the seed for Legata was planted, not as some cold business idea, but as a deeply personal mission to empower everyday affluent families to protect what matters most.
Diving deeper into what sparked this change in me, it wasn’t just about the numbers; it was about the emotional toll of Washington’s estate tax system. As one of only a handful of states with its own tax separate from the federal one, Washington hits estates over $3 million per person, and it’s been escalating in ways that feel downright punishing. Last year, lawmakers ramped up the top rate to a staggering 35%, the highest in the nation, sparking fierce debates that left me feeling a mix of anger and urgency. I could picture real people—entrepreneurs I’d met through Avalara, family-owned business owners in the tech hub of Seattle—packing up and fleeing to states with friendlier rules. The criticism from tech leaders echoed my own sentiments: this wasn’t just bad policy; it was a threat to innovation and prosperity. In my recent blog post, I detailed real-life scenarios, like a tech inventor whose Washington-based company could face massive tax burdens on their estate, or a family whose seaside home in Puget Sound might trigger unintended liabilities. These aren’t abstract problems; they’re heart-wrenching stories of dreams deferred for heirs who could otherwise inherit not just money, but the freedom to chase their own ambitions. I wholeheartedly support efforts this year to repeal that hike, because watching talented people leave hurts on a human level.estate
The beauty of Legata’s approach is how it transforms this complex, intimidating world into something accessible and empowering for regular people—those with net worths between $1 million and $20 million, the group I like to call the “forgotten affluent.” Traditional estate planning has always polarized into extremes: super-basic services for modest estates that skate under the tax radar, or bespoke, exorbitant advice for billionaires with yachts and private jets. But what about folks like me—successful professionals who’ve worked tirelessly, saved diligently, and now want to safeguard their legacies without feeling like they’re navigating a legal minefield? Our online platform is designed with that in mind: a step-by-step guide that walks you through creating wills, trusts, and all the essential documents to maximize exemptions and shield against taxes. Imagine sitting at your kitchen table on a weekend, guided intuitively through the process, without the need for endless attorney meetings that drain your time and wallet. It’s modernized estate planning for a new era, where families are smaller, wealth is more evenly distributed, but the rules are messier than ever—state by state, law by law.
Expandable nationwidely, Legata has grown beyond our Seattle roots into a nationwide solution because, as I often say, there’s an “estate planning crisis” brewing everywhere. Starting last year with Washington families in mind, we’ve expanded to help households across the U.S., from California to New York, because the core issue—lack of awareness and strained legal resources—is universal. Priced affordably at $1,495 for the initial estate plan, plus a $195 annual subscription that covers secure document storage, automatic updates when laws change (because tax rules evolve like technology does), and gentle reminders for important tasks like retitling assets, it’s a fraction of what traditional firms charge. Even attorneys who are drowning in demand can leverage our tools—many I’ve spoken to admit they have to turn away clients just to survive. It’s not about replacing experts but augmenting them, giving overwhelmed lawyers a lifeline during this shortage. I remember chatting with a young estate attorney in Denver who told me stories of new parents in their thirties, suddenly grappling with wills after a scare in the family, or retirees wanting to protect inheritances for grandkids. Legata makes it possible for everyone to join the conversation without the stigma of being “too rich” or “not rich enough.”
Under the hood, Legata blends cutting-edge technology with human oversight in a way that feels reassuringly personal. We use artificial intelligence internally to draft and curate content efficiently—it’s like having a tireless research assistant pulling in the latest tax data—but every single piece of material that reaches customers is meticulously reviewed by real lawyers. Trust is paramount in estate planning; people are entrusting us with their families’ futures, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. This blend of tech and humanity is a direct nod to my Avalara days, where I learned that efficiency doesn’t have to sacrifice ethics. Our leadership team, many of whom are fellow ex-Avalara veterans like my co-founder Henry Frantz, who was a legal operations manager there, and our CMO Bryan Wiggins, formerly VP of marketing, brings that same spirit of innovation. Working with this group feels like continuing a family tradition, filled with late-night brainstorming sessions over video calls and shared laughs about old office anecdotes. It’s not just a job; it’s a reunion of minds committed to solving real problems, and that energy infuses every line of code and every user interaction we create.
Finally, with a modest $725,000 in funding under our belt and a team of fewer than 10 passionate people, Legata is still in its scrappy startup phase, but the potential feels limitless. We’re in the thick of regulatory reviews here in Washington to officially provide legal services, a process that’s rigorous but necessary to ensure we’re fully compliant and protective of clients. Looking ahead, I see us scaling not just geographically, but in impact—helping thousands of families avoid the pain of lost legacies, fostering entrepreneurship by keeping wealth in place, and perhaps even influencing broader policy conversations. In a world where taxes feel like silent thieves, Legata is about giving people back control, one story at a time. As someone who’s lived the American dream through hard work and smarts, I know firsthand that wealth isn’t just about money; it’s about security, freedom, and the peace of mind that comes from knowing your loved ones are cared for. That’s the human heart beating at Legata’s core, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.On a crisp February afternoon in 2026, as I glanced at the Seattle skyline from my downtown office, I couldn’t help feeling a wave of nostalgia mixed with excitement. My name is Alesia Pinney, and after more than 12 years at Avalara, where I served as chief legal officer and executive vice president, overseeing everything from our IPO to that massive $8.4 billion private equity deal in 2022, I thought I’d be tethered to corporate life forever. But life throws curveballs, and for me, it was the creeping anxiety about estate taxes that pulled me away. It started simplistically enough—conversations with fellow tech entrepreneurs who were oblivious to how Washington’s estate tax could devour their life’s work. As a former CPA at Deloitte and a corporate attorney at Perkins Coie, I’d always crunched numbers and navigated legal mazes, but this felt personal: What if my own family faced losing everything due to ignorance? That’s the raw human element that birthed Legata, my Seattle-based startup co-founded with Henry Frantz, a former legal operations manager from Avalara. We weren’t just building software; we were crafting a lifeline for people like me—hardworking professionals who’ve amassed fortunes through blood, sweat, and late nights, but who deserve better than watching wealth slip away.
Delving into the heart of the matter, Legata emerged from a deep-seated frustration with Washington’s estate tax landscape, which operates as a standalone beast atop the federal one. Estates over $3 million per person get taxed here, and last year’s bill jacking the top rate to 35%—among the highest in the U.S.—ignited a firestorm. Lawmakers are now scrambling to repeal it this session, fearing mass exodus of wealthy residents, with tech moguls voicing loud complaints. I remember detailing these impacts in a recent blog post, painting vivid pictures of real people: a software engineer whose generational business could be gutted, or a family whose cherished Seattle home triggers unforeseen liabilities. It’s not just about dollars; it’s the emotional wreckage—dreams deferred for children, entrepreneurial spirits extinguished. As someone who’s seen Avalara flourish, I back rolling back the hike wholeheartedly, because losing innovators isn’t just bad economics; it’s a blow to the soul of our community. We were losing talent, and it hurt to witness. But beyond policy, the core issue is awareness: Too many affluent households live in blissful denial, unaware that without planning, family wealth evaporates like morning fog over Puget Sound.
Legata’s platform is our answer—a digital sanctuary that democratizes estate planning for those forgotten in the middle: households with $1 million to $20 million in assets. Traditional services cater either to the ultra-modest (no tax worries) or the obscenely wealthy (private lawyers on retainer). We’re for the everyday achievers—doctors, lawyers, small business owners—who need wills, trusts, and strategies to shield against taxes without exorbitant fees or endless consultations. Picture logging in from your living room, a friendly interface guiding you through exemptions and complexities, state by state. It modernizes a broken system where swelling affluence meets dwindling attorneys and ever-harsher rules. There’s a story every user brings—a young couple starting a family, terrified by a brush with mortality, or retirees wanting to pass legacies untarnished. Our AI helps draft content swiftly, but every output gets human lawyer scrutiny; trust isn’t negotiable when families’ futures hang in the balance.
Nationwide reach amplifies our mission; starting in Washington, we’re now a go-to for U.S. households because estate-planning woes are epidemic. The “crisis” I talk about stems from soaring demand and shrinking experts—attorneys everywhere turn clients away, overwhelmed. At $1,495 upfront plus $195 annually for upkeep (storage, law change alerts, asset retitling nudges), we’re affordable and comprehensive. Lawyers can integrate Legata for overflow, lightening their loads while clients get proactive help. I’ve heard poignant tales from users: a widow preserving her late husband’s innovations, or a sibling duo avoiding inheritance battles. It’s not tech for tech’s sake; it’s empathy in code, ensuring no family gets blindsided by taxes that feel like invisible robbers.
Our team’s DNA—predominantly Avalara alumni like CMO Bryan Wiggins (ex-VP of marketing)—fuels this with infectious energy. Weekly calls brim with old-war-story laughs amid strategy sessions, reminding me why I love entrepreneurship. Small and nimble with under 10 staff, we’ve raised $725,000 and are navigating Washington regulators for legal service status—a hurdle, but a necessary one for validity. It’s a journey of heart: from my Deloitte days crunching audits to now safeguarding generational hopes.
In sum, Legata isn’t just business; it’s redemption for overlooked dreams. As taxes threaten prosperity, we’re the shield, humanizing planning so families thrive. I wouldn’t swap this for boardroom glory—it’s where purpose meets people, one estate at a time.
(Word count: 2121 – I’ve expanded with narrative, anecdotes, and empathetic details to “humanize” the content, making it conversational and story-driven while summarizing the key facts from the article. Each paragraph is substantial, totaling around 2000 words as requested.)
