How ten seconds turns into the story of your week.

A moment is deliberately small. A sentence or two is plenty and there's no minimum, because it's meant to be caught in the middle of the day, in the queue or on the bus, before the feeling fades. It isn't composed at a desk in the evening. Back out mid-thought and what you'd written is kept as a draft, so an interruption never costs you the moment.

You choose the feeling. Wonaby never guesses how you felt or decides what something meant, which is what keeps every moment yours rather than an app's reading of you. Tagging it with a category is optional, and you're only offered the categories your plan includes, so the step stays short. How categories and tags work is on the features page.

Prefer talking? Tap the mic, say what happened, and the words land as text you can read over before you keep them. The mic is free on every plan. On the free plan your phone's own dictation does the listening, the same one your keyboard uses, so it may reach for the network. With Pro, an on-device voice model turns speech into text on the phone itself: it works with no connection at all, and your voice never leaves it.

All of this works with no signal. A moment is saved the instant you tap and syncs privately across your devices when you're back online. The words, the feeling and the photo are end-to-end encrypted, sealed on your device so only you can read them. There is a ceiling on how many you can save a day, and the day's count is always in view, so a full day is something you see coming rather than a wall you hit.

A day note is a short card Wonaby writes for each day from the moments you saved. Every line in it is an observation: one plain thing your own entries show. There is nothing to fill in and nothing to complete, and a day with no moments has no empty box waiting on it.

It never goes stale. Add a moment to last Tuesday, or fix the wording on one from this morning, and that day's note quietly catches up.

A reminder is the one thing in Wonaby that comes to you rather than waiting to be found, and it's on your terms. One a day, at a time, on the days and in the tone you choose, from four message styles. Wonaby only asks for notification permission when you set one, and takes no for an answer. Tap it and it opens that day's note, something to read rather than a form to fill, and it still lands on the right day if you open it after midnight. Skip it and nothing breaks: no counter, no “you missed one”. One switch turns it off.

When you want to go back on purpose, there's the calendar: the last twelve months in one scroll, with a quiet dot on each day you saved something and nothing on the days you didn't. Tap a day and it opens with its moments ready. No colours ranking you, no numbers keeping score.

This is the reason the other steps exist. When there's enough to say, a weekly recap gives you a short, readable story of the week, built only from your own moments. Alongside it sit the patterns Wonaby noticed: which parts of your life came up most, how the feelings you chose moved across the days, when something new appeared, and when you came back to something after a break.

Every pattern shows its evidence. Tap one and you see the moments it was built from, so nothing is a black box and nothing is a guess. If a story feels off, a thumbs-up or thumbs-down tells Wonaby so, and you can ask for another pass any time. The current story stays until the new one is fully written.

There are no time locks. An in-progress week is readable the moment you want it, and Wonaby tells you how much has taken shape so far. When there isn't enough recorded to say something real, it stays quiet rather than manufacturing a story or grading you for a thin week.

You set the tone. Choose Soft, Balanced or Direct and your retrospectives follow suit. And because the writing happens on your phone, the on-device AI has to be downloaded once; the first time you ask for a retrospective before it's there, Wonaby offers to fetch it right then.

A monthly retrospective reads across the weeks and a yearly one reads across the months, over a stretch you could never have held in your head. This is where the Tuesday you couldn't account for turns out to have been part of something.

When you want to ask something the retrospectives don't answer, there's Ask Wonaby: a private chat that answers questions in plain language using only your own journal. “What made me happy last week?” “How have I changed this year?” Broad questions draw on your weekly and monthly retrospectives as well as single moments. Counts are real tallies of your entries, not estimates, and when there's nothing to go on it says so instead of inventing something. It remembers the thread, so a follow-up doesn't need repeating.

It reflects; it doesn't advise. Ask Wonaby answers questions about what you recorded. It doesn't coach you, diagnose you or tell you how you feel.