Never paywall the care
Conversation and proactive check-ins are free, forever, uncapped. The part of Tama that looks after you is not a subscription feature.
Six things it does
We would rather under-promise and fully deliver. This is the complete v1 feature set — no roadmap items dressed up as shipped ones.
Most apps open with a signup wall. Tama opens with a hello. It tells you who it is, asks what you would like to be called, how you would like it to talk to you, and who matters in your life. Voice is the default because it sets a tone — but there is a text-only toggle on screen one, for quiet rooms, shared spaces, and anyone who simply prefers typing.
Tama introduces itself by voice and asks a few light questions. Switch to text-only from the very first screen.
Tama is not a chatbot with a costume on. On every single message it rebuilds a layered picture of you: the live conversation, the last two weeks of your days, a structured set of facts about the people and themes in your life, and the moments you flagged as significant. That is why it can ask how the thing with your manager went — unprompted, four days later.
Text or speak. Tama recalls what you told it days ago and brings it up the way a friend would.
This is the feature people remember. If you have opted in, Tama learns your own baseline for total device time and notices when tonight looks unlike your usual — not against some universal threshold, against you last month. Then it writes you a real message about it. Not a canned notification: a specific, personal note that knows what has been going on in your life.
With your permission, Tama watches for shifts in your own screen-time rhythm — and gently reaches out.
You can designate a few people — a sister, a partner, a best friend — who Tama may point toward on a hard night. Two rules make this trustworthy instead of alarming. They are told they have been added the moment you add them, so no first contact is ever a shock. And Tama asks you, in the chat, and shows you the exact draft, before anything sends. You can approve it, rewrite it, or say no.
Name people you trust. Tama asks you before it ever reaches out to them. Every single time.
You never have to journal. You just talk, and at the end of the day Tama writes the entry for you — in its own narrative voice, about your life. Those entries stack into the Lifebook: a rendered single-page book view with a stitched spine, dog-eared corners, and page-turn physics. The first page unlocks after thirty days together, because it should feel earned rather than generated.
Every conversation is compiled into a journal entry, and the entries become a real, turnable book.
A photo on its own is a file. A photo inside the day you lived is a memory. Attach images to moments and they are compressed, stored, and threaded into the right Lifebook page — alongside what you actually said about that day.
Attach a photo to a moment and find it again inside the day it belongs to.
Our promises
These are not marketing lines — they are product constraints. Every feature decision gets checked against them, and any feature that breaks one does not ship.
Conversation and proactive check-ins are free, forever, uncapped. The part of Tama that looks after you is not a subscription feature.
Every entry you create stays yours — always saved, always exportable, never deleted because you stopped paying.
Tama never messages someone in your life without asking you first, in the moment. There is no silent path — it does not exist in the code.
Tama may say “tonight felt heavy.” It will never say “you seem depressed.” It observes; it does not diagnose.
A permanent product boundary, not a limitation we plan to lift or sell. Tama is a friend — not a partner substitute.
We will not pretend nothing leaves your device — answering you requires a server. We tell you exactly what moves, and what never does.

Get Tama
Android first, built in the open. Care is free forever — no ads, no romantic roleplay, no paywalled memories.
Free to start · No advertisements at any tier · Your entries are always exportable