The scroll that won’t end
You’re not even enjoying it. You’re just not ready to end the day, so the feed ends it for you, an hour past tired.
A small evening ritual. A noticeably better life.
You showed up for yourself tonight
Reflect on what you're thankful for tonight
Clear your mind by setting tomorrow's priorities
Guided 4-7-8 breathing to calm your body
You’re not even enjoying it. You’re just not ready to end the day, so the feed ends it for you, an hour past tired.
The email you didn’t send. The dentist. The thing you said at lunch. Your body is horizontal; your head is still at work.
You wake with less sleep than you meant to, again. And you know tonight will go the same way unless something small changes.
None of that is a willpower problem. The day just never got an ending, so your mind keeps holding it open. My Evening gives the day an ending it can trust.
You don't need another app to manage. You need the day to end. My Evening walks you through it: speak what mattered, set tomorrow somewhere safe, breathe. By the last breath your shoulders have dropped and sleep is already close.
Two minutes of saying out loud what mattered, and the noise of the day starts to settle. Names of people return to you. Small kindnesses surface. By the time you're done, the day feels like something that happened to you on purpose, not something that happened at you.
You just talk: lights off, eyes closed, already under the covers. Your words appear on their own. Type if you'd rather; it's one tap away.
Who are you thankful
for tonight?
My beautiful wife for an amazing breakfast.
Emily
Remembered as “wife”
Every loose thread, said out loud or typed, leaves your head and lands somewhere you trust. Then you crown the one that matters most, even if it's "call mom," not the quarterly report. What you take to the pillow is a plan, not a pile.
In the morning, the same list is waiting on your home screen as Today's focus. The night didn't have to hold it, and neither did you.
Scullin et al., Journal of Experimental Psychology, 2018
Crown your priorities
Ninety seconds of 4-7-8: four cycles, eyes closed. Haptic taps mark each phase, so you don't have to look. The chest loosens, the heart slows, and you're already a long way toward sleep before the last cycle ends.
Cyclic slow breathing engages the parasympathetic system within a single round.
Prasertsri et al., 2022.
2
Hold
You never tag anyone. You just say what you'd say to a friend: "thank you to my wife for breakfast," "for my dad calling on Sunday." The names quietly find their place. Months pass, and a handful of them keep coming back. The people who actually hold you up become impossible to miss.
My Numbers
My People
See AllAnatomy of one quiet year
Tap any name and you find your own words, by week, by month, by year. Not a chart. Not a score. The actual moments you noticed her, preserved in the night you said them.
Emily
Remembered as “wife”
This week
Last month
A year ago
You’ve never tagged her once. The app simply listened, and remembered.
Years from now, you'll know exactly who was there during the hardest seasons. In your own words, from the night you said them.
By 11pm you've thought enough, decided enough, typed enough. My Evening meets you tired. Tap once, talk, tap again. The app does the noticing while you do the resting. Eyes can stay closed, body can already be horizontal.
No app guarantees sleep. We've put the practices that quietly help in one place, in an order you can do tired.
About 9 minutes faster, in a Baylor study of people who wrote a short plan before bed.
Scullin et al., Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 2018
Roughly 30 more minutes of sleep, across two studies of regular gratitude practice.
Wood et al., Journal of Psychosomatic Research, 2009
A single round of slow-paced breathing engaged the parasympathetic system, the body’s rest signal.
Prasertsri et al., 2022
Everything you write
Your gratitude, your people, your plans for tomorrow. Written on your phone, kept here in your own iCloud, in the same protected space as your photos and notes. None of it ever touches our servers.
Locked to your Apple account. We couldn't read it if we tried.
That's what we have:
A random string of letters and numbers, not your name or your email. It only lets the app recognize you on a new phone.
That's all a subscription means here: a yes or no from Apple, so the app knows what to unlock. Your card, billing address, and payment history stay with Apple and never reach us.
Counts and timings, like which rituals get used and how long an evening takes, so we can see what helps and improve it. Never your words, and never tied to your name or your sign-in. We see patterns, not people.
That's the whole page. No journal, no names, no words. Nothing to sell, nothing to show an advertiser.
Delete your account and we let go of what little we had. The full picture, with every provider, region, and your rights, is in the Privacy Policy.
No free tier with locked features. No upsell every time you open the app. Seven nights to feel the difference, then about $2 a month if you pay yearly.
About $2 a month, billed once a year. Save 30%.
The same app, month to month.
Everything the annual plan includes, no commitment. Cancel from the App Store in two taps whenever you like.
If your trial ends and you don't subscribe, every evening you've already logged stays readable, free, forever.
Not yet. iPhone only, iOS 18 or later. We’d rather make one calm thing well than two anxious things badly.
Only while you’re speaking. Your audio streams to our transcription provider (ElevenLabs, in the US) to become words. We never store the recording ourselves — how ElevenLabs handles audio is set out on our Sub-processors page. The transcript is what stays — on your phone, only because you wanted it to.
Nothing. The next time you open the app, it says “Welcome back.” You’re not behind. There’s nothing to catch up on.
Your first week is free, and canceling is two taps in the App Store — before the trial ends, you pay nothing. If you stop later, every evening you’ve logged stays readable, free, forever. No hostage data.
Five minutes most nights. Ten if you’ve had a long one. The breathing alone is ninety seconds.
No. No ads, no advertising identifier, no tracking across apps — and the only analytics we use is anonymous, never tied to you. A few service providers help run the app (transcription, sign-in, payments) — each one is listed, with exactly what it does and under what safeguards, on our Sub-processors page.