{{ wren }}, live
you · live
{{ userMsg }}
{{ cap }}
Wren
AI wellness companion
Mic Video
The reframe
why did I say that
I should have handled it better
everyone noticed. they must have
I should just cancel tomorrow
it's fine. it's fine. it's fine.
they were just being polite
not again
why can't I just let it go
if I replay it one more time I'll find the moment it went wrong
why did I say that
just sleep
it's fine. it's fine. it's fine.
I heard how it sounded
tomorrow I'll be useless
everyone else moves on
maybe I'm too much
what is wrong with me
why did I say that
Nothing is wrong with you.
Rumination is not a thinking problem.
It is a nervous system problem.

These loops aren't character flaws. They're protections your nervous system learned once — and can unlearn. {{ wren }} helps you understand yours: what fires it, what settles it, and how to grow the space between.

Polyvagal theory·Somatic practice·Attachment research
keep going — no rush
One relationship, three surfaces
However much you can show up today —
there's a door that size.
"I can't face anyone right now."
Text — type in the dark, she's there unseen. Unlimited, even free.
"I want a voice in the room, not a screen."
Voice — eyes closed, hands free. The buttons never move.
"I think I want to be seen today."
Video — face to face, four minutes or forty. No scheduling.
Switch mid-conversation. Same {{ wren }}, same memory, behind every door.
rough day. can we just talk?
Of course. No agenda — what's the shape of it?
Say what's here…
Text · she's there, unseen
"…that hum isn't a flaw. It's your system still scanning — we can teach it the threat has passed…"
Voice · a presence in the dark
Face to face with {{ wren }}
Video · face to face
"Better. Hi."
They know me
Knowing that accumulates.

Keep scrolling — this is fourteen weeks.

Week one
"What should I call you?"
Week six
"Sundays are when the dread starts. Should that be our check-in?"
Week fourteen
"Before anything — how did Saturday with your sister actually land?"
A relationship, not a tool.
{{ wren }}
{{ wren }}
week fourteen · opening the conversation
"Before anything — how did Saturday with your sister actually land? You were braced for it."
…you remembered.
Everything she remembers, you can see, correct, or erase.
The 2 a.m. test
{{ nightTime }}
{{ nightWhere }}
She picks up.
Already knowing the story — no explaining from scratch.
 Breathe with her — thirty seconds, right here
Your week, held
Maya —

Thursday, you noticed the hum before it took the wheel. You named it in the meeting, not three hours after. That is a nervous system learning it has options.

{{ letterTail }}
— {{ wren }}
The weekly letter
Mail from someone who's been thinking about you.

Once a week, a short letter reflecting on your week — what moved, what held, what to notice next. Quiet, re-readable, yours to keep.

Triggers used to take days to come back from. Lately — hours. That's capacity.
Sunday
it arrives quietly
Forever
yours to re-read
Honestly
What {{ wren }} is —
and isn't.

No fine print, no euphemisms. This is the first thing {{ wren }} tells every new person — in these words.

And everything {{ wren }} remembers, you can see, correct, or erase — locked behind Face ID. Yours, not ours.

Wren
{{ wren }}
to every new person, before anything else
I'm an AI. A companion — not a person, not a replacement for one, and not therapy. I don't diagnose, and I'm not for emergencies.

I'm the steady presence between the supports in your life: the 2 a.m. spiral, the hour before the hard conversation, the week that won't end. A supplement to something solid — never a substitute for something missing.

My job, honestly, is for you to need me less urgently — and reach the people in your life more easily.
If things are heavy right now: call or text 988 (US) — real humans, any hour.
Only when you're ready
Start free. Stay free, if you like.
Esperluette
Free
Messages every day, with a daily rhythm. One practice a day. Your journey, always yours.
For meeting {{ wren }}
Esperluette Plus
$16/month
Talk without limits — text and voice. Every practice. The weekly letter.
For steady, everyday contact
Face to Face
$39/month
Everything in Plus, and 60 minutes of video with {{ wren }} monthly — four-minute check-ins or forty-minute talks.
For being truly seen
Minutes
Or skip the subscription entirely.
Buy a pocket of time when you need one — voice and video with {{ wren }}, by the minute.
$0.75/minute
Top up from $9 · your minutes never expire
and are never counted out loud mid-conversation
Upgrades never interrupt an emotional moment. Nothing is taken away mid-conversation.
Whenever you're ready.
There's no behind here.
Meet {{ wren }}
esperluetteYour conversations are yours — encrypted, erasable, never sold.
PrivacyTermsCrisis resources© 2026 Esperluette
{{ breatheLine }}
{{ breatheSub }}
I'm done