Joining the small club of people who write
In a world where it is getting harder to find people who read, it is almost impossible to find people who write. Not for work, not “for content” — just for themselves: to stop the day, hear a thought, and leave a trace.
We decided to make joining that small club a little less intimidating. So Reflectly Online now has audio and video notes: you speak, AI helps turn your speech into text — and a week or a month later it feels good to come back and see yourself. Not the edited version, the real one: with pauses, slips of the tongue, and the tone that somehow disappears on a keyboard.
Below is what you can already try. No list of internal changes: only what is visible in the product.
Just say it out loud
The journal now has “Record audio” and “Record video” buttons. Audio runs up to three minutes: enough to unfold a thought without turning it into an evening-long monologue. Video is capped at thirty seconds — a small circle, for when you want to keep not only the words, but the face that said them.
From there Reflectly Online transcribes your speech, shows the text for editing, and saves a regular entry. You can remove the extra “ums,” add a couple of sentences by hand, and only then ask for an AI reflection.
Voice is not a replacement for the journal, it is a bridge to it. When writing feels like too much work, or the blank field is intimidating, you still end up among the people who leave their own words instead of only scrolling through someone else’s.
Try it right now: audio reflection or video reflection.
Come back and see yourself
Audio and video do not disappear after transcription. You can play them inside the entry itself, right next to the text they produced. That keeps the archive alive: a month later you return not only to the words, but to how they sounded. Sometimes that moves you more than any carefully polished paragraph.
Export caught up too. The “Include media” option now covers images, audio, and video: PDF and Markdown get tidy placeholders, and the ZIP archive contains the files themselves. Whether you are building a personal archive or simply belong to the people who keep everything in three copies, nothing gets lost along the way.
You can configure exports in your profile.
Media storage: honestly about the limits
Sound and video weigh noticeably more than screenshots, so we rebuilt the quotas around real media files. On the free plan you get 100 MB and 10 audio/video entries per month. On Pro — 1 GB and 50 entries. On Multi — 1 GB and 100 entries per month.
This is not an attempt to hide the journal behind a paywall, it is how we survive until the next release without going broke on storage. If space or the monthly limit runs short, the pricing page offers a monthly add-on: +500 MB for $1.99 or +2 GB for $4.99. Packs stack, and they work on any plan, including the free one.
Your current usage is visible in your profile — in advance, rather than at the exact moment you have just recorded something important.
For those already on friendly terms with AI agents
If you work with Cursor, Claude, or Hermes and want to give your assistant careful access to your journal on your behalf, profile settings now include an MCP / AI agents section. That is where a token is created — and where it gets revoked, if the agent turns out to be a bit too enthusiastic.
The detailed steps live in the user manual: how to create a
token, how to point Cursor or Hermes at https://mcp.reflectly.online/mcp, what
an agent can do, what it deliberately cannot, and how to handle a token so there
is nothing to regret later.
It is a feature for the people who genuinely need it. For everyone else it stays out of the way and asks for nothing — just one more bridge between Reflectly Online and the tools you already use.
Open the journal, tap “Record audio” or “Record video,” and leave a trace — by voice, if text is not happening today. Need more room for media? That is what pricing is for. And if something works especially well, or starts to annoy you, write to support. We still read those messages. And we even reply — in text, by hand, like in the old days.