Your body has been trying to tell you something. We help you listen.
You log a sentence about what you ate, or how you felt, or what you took that morning. gutbut remembers. Over weeks, it starts to notice the things you couldn’t, because you were living them.
No card. No waitlist. You’re talking to gutbut in under a minute.
Maybe. But I want to flag something else first. The last four times you logged bloating after 9pm, you’d had dairy within three hours. You’ve been saying you feel fine with dairy during the day, and I think that’s still true. This looks like a timing thing, not a dairy thing.
Late-night dairy likely correlates with overnight bloating. 4 of 4 instances, last 3 weeks. Possible, not proven. Want to test?
- Your logs belong to you
- No ads, no data sold
- Not a diagnosis engine
You’ve been your own study of one for a long time now.
You kept a note on your phone. You tried cutting out gluten for a month, then dairy, then lectins, because someone’s podcast said so. You have a drawer of half finished probiotics. You have Googled the same symptom at the same time of night more than once. None of it stuck, because tracking isn’t the hard part. Remembering is. Nobody remembers what they ate eleven days ago, and nobody should have to.
Three small habits. No dashboard to wrestle with.
gutbut is built to be useful the moment you open it, and more useful the longer you use it.
Tell it in your own words.
Type a sentence. “Had sourdough and butter. Felt fine.” That’s a log. You don’t open a form. You don’t pick a category. You don’t score anything on a scale of ten.
Log what you actually remember.
You will forget days. You will log the thing you had yesterday instead of today. That is fine. gutbut is built to be useful with incomplete data, because that is the only kind of data real people keep.
Let it find the pattern.
After a few weeks, gutbut starts pointing things out. Gently. “The last three times you had cheese after nine, you woke up around three.” You get to decide whether it’s right.
You had sourdough on the 8th and the 21st. Both times you said you felt fine. The 14th was a different bakery and that one didn’t agree with you. I’d eat the sourdough.
Log how you feel tomorrow either way. That’s how I’ll know if I was right.
It remembers you between sessions.
Most AI assistants forget you the moment the window closes. gutbut doesn’t. It holds onto what you’ve told it, and it uses it. That’s the whole product, and it’s the thing nothing else does.
- It notices things you’re too close to notice.
- It suggests experiments. It doesn’t prescribe.
- It hedges when it should. “Likely” is doing work, and it knows it.
- It knows when to stop talking.
Your week, as a sentence. Then, if you want, as a chart.
The Hub is designed to read like a journal, not a dashboard. There is no gut score out of a hundred. There is no number going up. There is the week you had, in language a person would use.
“A quieter week than last. Four days felt good, two felt mild, one was a harder day you didn’t log. Late meals were the pattern again.”
Week in review
One paragraph. Written by gutbut. Based only on what you actually logged.
Correlations
Hedged and honest. “Likely” and “possible,” never “proven.”
Supplements
A list of what you said you’d take, and what you actually did.
Logging is noticing. It isn’t winning.
There are no streaks. No green checkmark for logging a symptom, because nothing about a symptom is a win. Missing a day is not failing. The app you’re used to rewarded you for hitting the button every day, because that was how the app grew. This is not that app.
- No streaks. No badges. No guilt.
- Symptoms logged without a score, if a score isn’t what you’ve got.
- Your logs are notes, not performances.
How are you feeling?
The category is loud. We’re trying not to add to it.
Received, not measured.
We built this for people tired of being turned into a number. You’re a person. Your body is a person’s body.
Warm, not cute.
gutbut is not your friend from an app. It’s a companion with a voice. Nothing wags its tail when you open the screen.
Honest about uncertainty.
We will not tell you something is proven when it isn’t. The words “likely” and “possible” appear on purpose, and often.
Your logs, your logs.
You can export everything you’ve written. You can delete your account and we forget you completely. We will not hold your data hostage.
“I spent six years blaming bread. It wasn’t bread. It was eating after nine. I would never have seen that without reading it back in my own words.”
Things people ask us.
On the phone that’s already in your hand.
Logging happens in passing — after a meal, before sleep, in the cab home from somewhere. gutbut goes where you go: a sentence at a time, on the phone in your pocket.
Your body has been writing a book. Start reading it.
Preview access is free while we’re building. No card. No waitlist.