What you build, builds you.
Break bad habits.
With your own health data.
One at a time, and never on willpower. WellPal reads what your phone already knows, then builds the small nightly habit that takes the old one’s place.
Your own numbers.
And what it can’t see.
I stay up scrolling past 1am.
Thank you for naming it. That one is hard to say out loud, and you’re not the only one who says it to me. The phone is built to be hard to put down.
You slept under six hours on 9 of the 14 nights I could measure.
I can’t see your screen, and I won’t guess at it. What I can measure is how the nights ended up.
Tonight is one step: the phone goes on its charger, out of reach. I’ll be there at the hour you told me.
Pal’s real words. The count is your own, and the sentence never changes shape as it grows — only the digit does.
I don’t have enough measured yet to put a number on this, and I won’t invent one. What you told me is real, and it’s enough to start tonight.
Under seven measured nights, WellPal offers no number at all — and says so, rather than filling the gap.
The same sentence, whatever you picked. At this point there is nothing habit-specific that would still be true.
Everything it reads.
And everything it won’t guess.
- Sleephours, per night
- Stepsand distance
- Energyactive burn
- Heartrate and resting
- Your bedtimeno lights-out signal
- Your screennever inferred
- Your alarmyour words, not a reading
- Your cupsyou tell it
“I can’t see your screen, and I won’t guess at it. What I can measure is how the nights ended up.”
7nights
measured, minimum. Under that it offers no number at all.
6hours
the short-night line. One definition, used everywhere.
3hours
below this it isn’t a short night, it’s a night it couldn’t measure.
7,500steps
a day you moved on purpose.
It keeps your hours.
Not the other way round.
- Cold launchAny hour
The icon is Pal’s face
The zoom iOS starts on your icon never cuts. It just keeps pulling back, into the room.
1.5s, one continuous camera move
- 05:00Morning
Last night, then today’s read
A score out of a hundred, and a word for it. Where a night went unmeasured, a dash.
From Apple Health
- 12:00Afternoon
Your own curve
Your day’s shape, drawn from last night. It renames itself on any day it didn’t actually see you wake.
Labelled a forecast, never a reading
- 17:00Evening
One quiet row appears
Tonight’s wind-down, and a way to move it. The only thing on the screen asking for anything.
Begin · or set it earlier
- wind-down − 60Night
Night starts at your hour
Not at six. Evening ends an hour before the wind-down you chose, floored at seven.
max(19:00, your time − 60)
- AfterNight
It ends without a scoreboard
The screen eases its brightness down while it runs, and back up after.
−20% over six seconds
- Rechargingunder 40
- Running light40–59
- Steady60–79
- Charged80+
Four words, and none of them is a failing grade. A thin week gets no number at all.
- Program · the cue that opens tonight
- Rhythm · timed to your own curve
- Evidence · the morning read, the look-back
- Repair · one nudge, after a miss
“I’ll bring your morning read and cues that fit your rhythm. Five a day at most, and you pick which ones. Never guilt.”
It shows up at the hour
you actually lose.
Breaking one means building the small one that takes its place. It stays for the whole sequence, and every step has a smaller version for the nights you have nothing left.
Let’s park the phone out of reach. Just for tonight.
Every step’s words are the app’s own. Your times, and the hour it arrives, are yours.
Tonight’s sequence
- Park the phone2 min · Phone out of arm’s reachNever skipped
- Your swap: book or stretch2 min · One page or one track
- Ten minutes with the swap2 min · Two minutes with the swap10 min
- In bed, phone parked
Every day you finish is a vote for someone whose evenings end off the screen.
28 of them, and the habit graduates.
Nothing here is ever
called broken.
- Kept
- A freeze covered it
- A quiet night
- Tonight, still open
- 01Miss one and the run holds. The next night I offer you the 2 minute version.
- 02Miss again and one of your 2 freezes covers it.
- 03Your first 7 clean nights earn you one repair. If a run breaks while you’re holding it, you have 3 days to bring it back.
- 04What you have already done stays done, either way.
Shown before you commit, not after you slip. Forgiveness never asks why.
5, 6 or 7 nights a week for “Late-night scrolling”. The pace moves your end date and nothing else — the length never shrinks, because a shorter number would be a shortcut the app does not have.
Sixty-six is the median from the most-cited study on habit formation, and the range around it is wide. Never twenty-one.
“Before we call it changed: did the evening swap mostly run on its own this week, without you pushing it?”
Reaching 28 does not graduate you. A streak alone is not a changed habit, so it asks — and “not yet” keeps the evening swap going and asks again in a week.
“I put a trophy in my room for this one. It never comes down.”
“This one holds on its own now. Where should we look next?”
The next one comes from your own evidence, or from what you flagged at the start. Nothing you named was thrown away.
You drew the thing
that runs your evenings.
- 01
You draw it
Two prompts, a dashed guide, and your own wobbly line. It moves on at just over half traced, and Done is there the whole time.
- 02
It comes alive
Your strokes hold, then settle into a character that first appears at the size you drew it and grows from there as the sketch fades.
- 03
You pick its colour
And the app takes it. Not a theme setting — the accent every screen is drawn in from then on.
Eight to choose from, and every one of them clears the contrast bar on its own, because it becomes the whole app’s accent.
Coming to iPhone.
Q3 2026.
What you build, builds you.