a Founder Story
Jill Turcic
““I should send you a thank-you for your thank-you.”
That’s a real thing a friend said to me once. It made me laugh, but it also made me realize how much I love showing appreciation.
It’s the best feeling to see someone’s face when they realize you not only remembered them but also remembered the Detail. The Date. The Occasion. The Preference. The Thing.
Good or bad. Big or small. Their favorite coffee shop or restaurant or shade of blue.
Or you remembered that day. You know, the Very Hard Day that changes a life—the diagnosis, the call, the accident, the news. While you can’t erase the pain for them each year, you can ease it by saying, Hey, I remember that day. And I’m here. And I’ll show up again next year too.
But somewhere along the way, staying thoughtful got harder. Life picked up speed. Technology made communicating easier…but somehow less personal. I started to notice how emotionally exhausting it was to carry around the unfulfilled intention to do something nice.
I kept wondering: why is it so hard to act on my good intentions? l spend time scrolling through feeds of people I haven’t seen in decades but then forget my sister’s birthday. Or worse, I remember it, but don’t know what to do. So I freeze, then forget, then feel bad.
Turns out I wasn’t alone. Every friend I talked to was carrying some version of this invisible mental spreadsheet. The emotional labor was relentless. The guilt? Even worse. And still — we wanted to show up for our people. We just didn’t have the capacity to do it well, let alone remember what kind of card or treat they’d actually appreciate.
That was the spark for HeyDay—a little idea that started brewing in my brain almost 15 years ago. I used to daydream about the perfect app that would remind me it was my nephew's birthday, tell me he loved Hollister and Twix, and then let me buy them, send them, and make his day a little sweeter. When I heard about a friend’s father passing, I imagined a way I could be reminded to reach out next year in a thoughtful way. I wanted more than a recurring event in my calendar or buried reference in my phone’s notes app. I wanted to be reminded and to know what restaurant they would most be excited to receive a meal from. I wanted something that would help me turn intentions into moments of real connection with the people I care about.
The idea would resurface every few years—usually during a calendar meltdown or a late-night spiral of emotional overload. I’d sketch a feature, jot down a note, or vent to a friend about how hard it is to keep up with everything. Then life would intervene. Kids. Work. The 2,000th "What’s for dinner?" conversation.
But the need never went away. It got louder.
Eventually, something shifted. Maybe it was being middle-aged — a mix of career questioning, emotional exhaustion, and a craving to build a life that feels more meaningful — that makes you finally ready to do the thing you’ve been turning over in your mind, sketching on the backs of napkins, and talking about on walks with friends.
I knew I wanted to build this — and I couldn’t do it alone.
My co-founder was one of the friends I’d shared the idea with over the years. I had always admired her as a business role model and hoped we’d find a way to work together one day. She had just stepped away from a big job in tech — burned out and ready to create something of her own. We picked up the conversation for the hundredth time — and this time, we said, “Let’s go.”
We teamed up with a former colleague — a sharp, young developer who, to be honest, we weren’t sure would “get” the emotional labor we were trying to solve for. But he got it. Instantly. And he wanted in. That was a huge moment of validation. Suddenly, we had a founding team: two women who’d lived the pain point and a developer who could help us build our way out of it.
Our fourth founder feels like a “found-her!” moment. We needed someone to help us tell the HeyDay story and support our marketing efforts. Turns out she was right under our nose. My cousin and I had commiserated and dreamed over the years about ways we wished we could act on more of our good intentions when it came to showing up for our family. When we hosted our first focus group to talk about the idea of HeyDay, she was full of good marketing ideas. With her added energy and creativity, we had the right team to finally bring HeyDay to life.
It stopped being a side idea. It became a solution.
HeyDay is built by people in the thick of it for people in the thick of it. You tell us what matters to you. Your people share what matters to them. We remember the details, nudge you at the right moment, and help you follow through by giving recommendations you can act on right then and there, so it’s off your mind and in their hands.
It’s not about being perfect. HeyDay helps you show up for the people who matter most — in ways that actually matter to them. And by taking it off your plate, it gives you back the mental space to focus on everything else life throws your way.
That’s the story. That’s the vision. Care to join us?