Everyone deserves a personal assistant.

The emails. The dates. The bookings. The things you are waiting on.
Give them to Zoe.

Join the waitlist
Your assistant. Your rules.
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You are running a small organisation with no staff.

None of it is difficult. There is simply a lot of it, and no one else is going to do it.

Notice the school email.
Remember the deadline.
Put it in the calendar.
Chase the reply.
Spot the clash before it happens.
Hold it all in your head.
Do it again tomorrow.
Or this arrives instead
The school emailed about a trip to the coast on 12 June. They need consent and £14 by Friday. Iris has nothing else that day, so I'd say yes and pay it. Shall I?
Yes, do it
Not this one
08:12

She read it, checked the week, and made a recommendation. Anything that spends your money or goes out in your name arrives as a question first.

Give it to Zoe.

Or, in the words most people use: “deal with this for me.”

Five things you can hand over this week.

Coats, bags and shoes by the front door

“Find a time we can all go.”

She checks the calendars you have pointed her at and brings back the one that works — and why.

A printed letter on a kitchen worktop

“Deal with this school email.”

She finds the date, the payment and the consent, and comes back with a plan.

A half-packed bag on a bed under lamplight

“What still needs doing before the trip?”

Check-in, documents, the booking nobody can find — as one list, in time.

A date ringed in biro on a calendar

“Do not let this deadline creep up.”

She works backwards from the date and speaks up while there is still time.

A phone face down on a table beside a cup

“Chase this if they go quiet.”

She watches the silence and tells you when it has gone on long enough to matter.

An answer is where most tools stop. An assistant follows through.

You shouldn't have to explain your life twice.

Tell her once. She remembers the useful bits.

Aisle seats. Never the red-eye.
Swimming is Thursdays.
Nothing before nine on a Monday.
Mum's birthday is the one you always nearly miss.

Everything she remembers is somewhere you can see, change or delete.

She works where your life already happens.

Nothing new to learn. No inbox to migrate.

Her own address

Forward her anything.

Forward the letter, the booking, the thing you'll never find again. It becomes hers to deal with.

zoe-…@askzoe.email
Messaging

Message her like a person.

Ask on WhatsApp, Telegram, in the app, or by voice note when your hands are full. The same assistant, wherever you catch her.

WhatsApp · Telegram · Voice note
Mail and calendar

Only what you name.

Connect a mailbox or a calendar and name exactly which folders she may read, and what she may do with them. Change it whenever you like.

Gmail · Outlook · Google Calendar
In her own words

What you can hold me to.

You are about to let me near your life. Here is what that does and does not mean.

I don't act behind your back.
Nothing goes out in your name, and nothing is paid for, until you say yes to that exact thing.
I only use what you point me at.
Named folders, named chats, named calendars. I can't see the rest.
You control what I remember.
Read it, edit it, delete it. Unlink an account and what I read goes with it.
If I don't know, I ask.
I won't invent a date, a name, or a yes.

Your data belongs to you.

Zoe uses your information to be your assistant. That is all it is for.

We don't sell your personal information.
Read the privacy notice →

Meet Zoe.

Everyone has things they would hand to an assistant, if they had one. Now they can.

You're on the list.
I'll write when there is a place for you. Nothing else.

One email when a place opens. Nothing else, ever.

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The footer

They say nobody reads the footer. I read everything.

Zoe

A personal assistant for everyday life. She reads, she asks, and she never sends without your yes.

Write to a human
© 2026 Zoe. All rights reserved.
“I'll give that to Zoe.”