Wamo
Built for the ordinary week
Most of a relationship is not the big moments. It is a Tuesday, a grocery list, a decision you keep having twice, and a question neither of you got around to asking. Wamo is made for that part.
A question a day is a lovely idea
It is also, in most apps, the whole idea. Somewhere around month three you have seen the questions, and the notification becomes one more thing to swipe away.
Meanwhile the things a couple actually coordinates on are scattered everywhere else. The grocery list is in one app. The money is in another. The plan for Saturday is somewhere in a thread you have both stopped scrolling. The thing you agreed on last month gets argued about again, because nobody wrote it down.
Wamo keeps the ritual and puts the rest of it in the same place. A small question in the morning, a quiet fifteen minutes at the weekend, and underneath both of them the list, the budget, the decisions, and everything the two of you have already done together.
So there is still a reason to open it on a day when nothing special is happening. That is the whole idea.
Six decisions everything else follows from
Nothing either of you writes is surfaced to anyone else, because there is nowhere for it to go. No feed, no followers, no discovery.
Answers open only once you have both written one, and you cannot edit yours after reading theirs. That is a rule in the database, not a setting anyone can turn off.
The weekly quiz was built with a score and the score was deleted. A number attached to a relationship only ever turns into a stick.
It knows a date you typed and a few things you tapped. So it says what it did, and then it stops.
A private corner inside a shared app, kept apart in the database rather than hidden in the interface.
Every question, prompt and date idea was written by a person, and nothing you write goes near a model.
It is built to be put down
A busy fortnight should read as a busy fortnight, not as a failure. So there is no streak to break, nothing decays, and the counter only ever counts up.
If a week is too much, either of you can take quiet days, or pause the whole space. Pausing freezes the rituals and the reminders for both of you, keeps everything exactly where it is, and never says who pressed it.
Warm, quiet, and drawn by hand
Every illustration in Wamo was drawn for this app and nothing else. Two cats in knitted sweaters, Mimo and Wari, turn up on every screen, in a palette of sun-bleached sand and deep teal chosen to be easy to sit with at seven in the morning and again at eleven at night.
Numbers are set in a serif, because a figure you are meant to feel should not look like a spreadsheet. Words your partner wrote are the only thing in the whole app that appears in handwriting, so you can tell at a glance what came out of a machine and what came out of them.
None of that is decoration. It is the difference between filling in a form and opening somewhere you want to be.
Your relationship isn't a product
There are no ads in Wamo, nothing you write is sold on, and there is no third-party analytics in the app. Your private notes and any expense you mark private are kept apart at the database level, so your partner's phone never even receives them. You can export everything as a file at any time, and delete all of it yourself. Read the privacy policy.
Coming to the App Store
Every story starts somewhere
Wamo is finished and preparing for App Store review. Leave your address and you get one message on the day it lands, and nothing else.