My Life Story
Your life story, daily journal, and cherished memories — all in one place
My Life Story
One beautiful timeline for your milestones, memories, reflections, and lessons — everything that makes you, you.
Example entries
The day everything changed — becoming a dad
Queen's Medical Centre, Nottingham
I'd been awake for 31 hours when they finally placed him in my arms. He weighed 7lb 4oz and had the most serious expression I'd ever seen on a person — like he was already sizing up the world. I remember walking to the car park alone at 5am just to cry without worrying anyone. Not sad tears. Just overwhelmed ones. The sky was going pink over the hospital roof and I thought, "I'll tell him about this moment one day." I still haven't. But I will.
Sunday mornings at Nan's house
Nan's terraced house, Coventry
Every Sunday without fail. The smell of Nan's house was its own language — lavender, frying bacon, and something sweet from the sideboard biscuit tin she pretended was for special occasions only. Grandad would be watching wrestling on the telly with the sound down. Nan always said he'd go deaf but it was really because she wanted to hear the radio in the kitchen. I'd sit on the carpet and be given my weekly 50p. It felt like a fortune. These were the most ordinary moments of my childhood. They are also the ones I miss most.
Things I want my children to know about who I really am
I am not who I appear to be in photographs. I am funnier, more anxious, more hopeful, and more frightened than any photo suggests. I grew up feeling like I didn't quite fit. I spent most of my twenties performing a version of confidence I hadn't yet earned. I made mistakes I'm not proud of and some I don't regret at all. What I want you to know is this: I have loved being your parent more than I have loved anything. Not in a sacrificial way — in a "this is what I was made for" way. If you're reading this after I'm gone, please know the ordinary days were my favourite. The car journeys. The terrible films we watched. The kitchen table at 7am. Those were my best moments. Every one of them.
Your story deserves to be told
Start writing your own milestones, memories, reflections and lessons — privately, beautifully, and preserved for the people who matter most.
My Journal
A private, beautifully simple space to write your thoughts, reflect on your life, and leave words that will outlast you.
What you can do in My Journal
Write Freely
Create rich journal entries with a title, date, and as much or as little content as you like — no rules, no format.
Organise with Tags
Add tags like "family", "travel" or "reflections" to categorise your entries and find them easily later.
Search Your Memories
Instantly search through all your journal entries by keyword — find any memory, thought or story in seconds.
Attach Photos
Bring your stories to life by attaching a photo to any journal entry — capturing the moment visually and in words.
"I've been writing one entry a week for two years. My children already say it's the greatest thing I've ever done for them."
David, a retired headteacher from Bristol, started his Everhere journal after his wife passed away in 2022. He wasn't a writer — he said so himself — but he had stories he'd never told. Stories about growing up in the 1950s, his first job, the day his children were born, the holidays they'd laughed their way through.
So every Sunday morning, with a cup of tea, he writes one entry. Some are short — just a paragraph about a memory. Others go on for pages. He tags them: "childhood", "family", "lessons I've learned", "things I wish I'd said". He organises them by theme so his family can browse entries about specific people or periods. Over time, he now has over a hundred entries — a full, vivid portrait of a life being lived.
What David loves most is the control. Right now, he shares certain entries — the funny ones, the family stories — directly with his daughters while he's alive. Others he keeps private, to be released only after he passes. He decides what's shared, with whom, and when. His journal is his, on his terms.
"Dad shares entries with us every few weeks. We read them together over a phone call. We already feel like we know him better than we ever did. And knowing there's more waiting for us one day — it's the most comforting thing in the world."
— Sarah, David's eldest daughter
Log in to start writing your story — one entry at a time.
Memories
A private, beautiful space to preserve your life stories, cherished moments, and the experiences that made you who you are.
What you can do in Memories
Write Your Stories
Record life stories, childhood memories, and the moments that shaped you — in your own words, for the people you love.
Attach Photos & Videos
Bring your memories to life by attaching photos or videos alongside your written stories.
Add Dates & Locations
Capture when and where a memory happened, so the full picture is preserved for future generations.
Organise with Tags
Tag memories by theme — family, travel, milestones, recipes — so they're easy to browse and find.
Privacy Controls
Choose whether each memory is private or public — you decide what's seen and by whom.
Reorder & Curate
Drag and drop to arrange memories in the order that feels right — chronological, thematic, or by importance.
"I wrote down stories my grandchildren had never heard. Now they read them every week."
Derek, a 74-year-old retired schoolteacher from Shropshire, had always been told he had wonderful stories — but he'd never written them down. His daughter helped him set up Everhere, and over three weeks he added twelve memories: the days he spent in the army, the night his first child was born, and the recipe for his mother's Welsh cakes that he'd been keeping in his head for fifty years.
He attached photos where he had them — a faded scan of his wedding day, a picture of the old family home — and added written notes describing the details the photos couldn't capture. When he shared his memories page with his family, his grandchildren were captivated. His eldest granddaughter told him she'd read every single one.
"Dad always said he'd tell us his stories one day. Now we have them forever — in his words. That means everything."
— Sarah, Derek's daughter
Derek now adds a new memory every Sunday morning. He says it's become one of his favourite parts of the week.