The relationship app
for couples where one
of you has ADHD.
It remembers what one brain drops. It explains to the other person why it was dropped.
FREE TO USE · PREMIUM FOR THE SHARED PARTS
Nobody in these
relationships is the villain.
Intends everything. Delivers some of it.
Agreeing and remembering run on different systems. The care is real — the follow-through evaporates at the next interruption. Then comes the shame, and the defensiveness that looks like not caring.
Carries the noticing, and slowly stops asking.
They hold the diary, the appointments, the emotional weather. Every request risks making them the nag. Eventually they stop making requests — and that silence gets mistaken for peace.
Everyone else gets the performance. What arrives home isn't the real them either — it's what's left after a day of holding it together.
Masking all day empties the tank. So the partner doesn't get some authentic version as a consolation prize — they get the shutdown. Withdrawn, flat, on the phone, and easy to read as indifference, because from the outside that is exactly what it looks like.
Neither of you has properly met the person who shows up when the load is managed. Making room for that person is the whole point of Soft Focus.
You choose which one
you are on the first screen.
A prosthetic for the things that slip
- Say it instead of typing it — "dentist for the kids next Thursday at half nine"
- Plan the day in blocks, with a live "next up"
- Four small daily prompts — never a longer list
- It tells you which one has slipped, and for how long
- Ten-second capture for anything your partner just said
- Nudges every few hours until the day's four are done
- A feed built to intercept the doomscroll
Translation, and somewhere to put the weight
- Decode ten situations you'll recognise instantly
- Feelings: theirs, yours, and what's genuinely good
- A heat check before you raise anything difficult
- A ledger of the invisible load you're carrying
- Things you haven't said, parked rather than swallowed
Both sides, in your pocket.
Swipe through. The blue screens are the ADHD side, the pink ones are the partner's.
TodayFour small things, and the one that's slipped furthest.
Plan my dayThe day in blocks, with a live “next up”.
ScrollA feed that hands you something usable.
FeelingsName it, check the temperature, send it if you want to.
Shared calendarShifts, appointments, date night, in one place.
The guideAsk anything, at eleven at night.Between you
A shared channel for the things that are hard to say face to face — an ask, a feeling, or something that went right. Everything gets a read receipt.
Shared calendar
Shifts, appointments, who's got the kids, date night. Repeating patterns, multi-day blocks, and alerts that export to your phone. Or say it out loud — one sentence fills the entry.
Do this together
Suggestions built for a brain that runs on interest — somewhere new, something unfamiliar, the admin done side by side. One tap puts it in the diary.
The guide
Ask anything at eleven at night. It knows how ADHD lands in a relationship, and it's briefed differently depending on which side you're on.
Six in the morning to
ten at night, in blocks.
An ADHD brain doesn't generate its own structure, so the app supplies it. Lay the day out in timed blocks and it tells you where you are in it — next up, in 25 minutes — which is usually the part that goes missing, not the list itself.
Ready-made blocks
Morning, work, home, wind-down. Drop one in and edit it, rather than staring at an empty screen.
Save your usual day
Most days repeat. Get it right once, then reload it tomorrow in a single tap.
Nothing carries over
Tomorrow starts empty. No arrears, no guilt pile — and it'll tell you when you've planned more than a day can hold.
What this app
refuses to do.
No streaks
Nothing to break, nothing to lose. Streak mechanics punish precisely the brain this was built for.
No scoreboard
Your partner never sees whether you ticked anything. Visible compliance would just rebuild a parent–child dynamic.
The feed ends
It's finite on purpose, and it interrupts you to say so. This is meant to send you back into the room, not keep you here.
Say it. Don't fill in a form.
Adding a calendar entry means seven fields, and seven fields is exactly the kind of job that doesn't get done. So you can just say it out loud instead.
One sentence, every field
"Sarah is away Monday to Wednesday" becomes a three-day entry, tagged, assigned and set to remind you.
It shows you before it saves
You always see what it heard and what it made of it. Nothing goes in the calendar behind your back.
It says when it's unsure
If the date was ambiguous, it tells you so rather than guessing quietly.
Free is what you do on your own.
Premium is what you do together.
The free version isn't a trial that runs out. Daily prompts, the feed, your board and everything on your own side stay yours, with no card and no countdown.
forever, no card
- Four daily prompts, and what's slipped
- The feed, and the ten-second capture
- Decode a moment, and the heat check
- Your board, up to ten things
- The first 12 Closer questions
- Five questions a month for the guide
a month, for both of you
- Everything shared — the link, your calendar, the message channel
- Closer — all 102 questions, sent and answered between you
- The guide, unlimited, at any hour
- Voice entry — say it and it fills in the whole calendar entry
- Plan my day — blocks, saved routines, a live next-up
- Nudges until the day's four are done
- Unlimited notes, and backup so a lost phone costs nothing
One subscription covers both of you — your partner never pays separately. Billed through the App Store or Google Play. Cancel any time and you drop back to free rather than losing anything you've written.
The ones people ask.
Does my partner have to use it too?
No. Either side works on its own, and plenty of people start alone. Linking adds the shared calendar and the message channel, but nothing forces the other person to join.
Will my partner see everything I write?
No. Your daily prompts, private notes, mood entries and the things you haven't said stay on your device and are never shared. Only what you deliberately send crosses over.
What if we both have ADHD?
Then you both choose the first option at setup and link as normal. Plenty of couples are in that position and the app doesn't assume otherwise.
Is this therapy?
It isn't, and it doesn't pretend to be. It's a practical tool for the day-to-day. If a pattern is entrenched despite effort on both sides, an ADHD-informed couples therapist will do more than any app, and the guide will tell you so.
Do we need a diagnosis?
No. Nothing here diagnoses anyone, and the tools work whether or not there's a formal assessment behind them.
What do I get for free?
Your own side of the app, permanently: the four daily prompts, the feed, ten-second capture, your board, the decode and heat-check tools, the first 12 Closer questions and five guide questions a month. No card, and no countdown.
Premium adds everything you do with your partner — the link, the shared calendar, the message channel and the full Closer exchange — plus voice calendar entry, the guide unlimited, the day planner, nudges and backup. You get 30 days of it free when you start.
Does my partner have to pay too?
No. One subscription covers both of you. Whichever of you subscribes, the other gets everything shared unlocked automatically.
Monthly or yearly?
£14.99 a month, or £99.99 a year — which works out at £8.33 a month and saves you just under £80. Both cover both of you. If you're not sure it'll stick, start monthly; you can switch later.
Is it going to nag me?
It'll nudge you every few hours while the day's four are outstanding, and stop the moment they're done. You set the hours and how often. Missing a day costs you nothing.