No daily check-ins, no streaks, no routine. Stillwell stays quiet on ordinary days — and asks for one simple tap only when silence starts to matter.
No daily check-ins. No streaks. Most days you won't touch it at all — that's the whole idea.
A walk, a phone charge, a screen unlock — Stillwell reads the quiet proof of an ordinary day and stays out of your way. Most days it says nothing. That's it working.
If you go unusually quiet, your phone asks once: still there? A tap says you're fine. It's the only thing it ever asks — instead of a check-in every morning forever.
On an ordinary day, nothing goes out — your people can just glance at your status if they want. Only when you go quiet is anyone actually alerted, fast and in the order you chose.
Alive, not where. The page you share shows that you're okay — never your location, never your steps, never a “last seen” to spiral over.
For the person who worries about you, it replaces the unanswered call with a glance.
Only if you truly go quiet — silent long enough that you can't answer — do the people you chose get your last-known location, so help knows where to look. Never a running map of your day. Unlike Find My, your whereabouts stay private until the one moment they'd matter.
All still well
Sarah's phone is connected — it checked in a few minutes ago.
The same quiet signal ends the nagging from both sides at once.
You don't want to be that parent. You just want to know they're okay. Give them their space and keep your peace of mind — the nag you can finally retire.
Get your mom off your back — without a single “good morning” text. Stillwell answers her for you, so independence is something your parents can actually live with.
Everybody wins: she knows, you're left alone.
Stillwell's promise is small and solid: if you ever went quiet, you'd be noticed — within a day, by the people you chose. It's not a medical alert and won't promise rescue in minutes. It's just the quiet certainty that you're not as on-your-own as living alone can feel.