Every season of it: trying, pregnant, and after. This isn't just about getting pregnant — it's a calm, private home for the whole of life: tracking my cycle without selling my data, moving through pregnancy and postpartum without disappearing, plus the music and books that lift a mood and get me through ordinary Tuesdays. Each corner now has its own tab up top, so you can go deep on one thing at a time instead of scrolling through everything.
Minimal, earthy, and made for every kind of family — not a pastel stereotype.
That’s the honest version, in writing: I built Sapphic Seasons for my own life first. Your tracking stays on your own device, and nothing here is built to hand your information to ad networks or anyone else. We don’t sell your data — full stop.
Yes, there's a private cycle tracker and support from trying through postpartum — most apps stop at the positive test, this one doesn't. But a life is also what you listen to on a hard day and what you read before bed. Pick a room:
Here's the honest version. When my wife and I started seriously talking about a baby, my life scattered across apps and group chats overnight: one app for my cycle (with ads, and terms I didn't love), a notes file for donor timing questions, a fitness app that assumed pregnancy was an injury, three group chats for the days it all felt like too much — and, holding the whole thing together at 11pm, the same handful of songs and books on repeat.
None of it talked to each other, and almost none of it sounded like my actual life — queer, partner-and-donor shaped, earth-toned, allergic to pink clip-art. So I started building the place I wished existed: one private home for the whole journey. Tracking that doesn’t sell my data. Trying-to-conceive logistics that don't call my wife my husband. Pregnancy movement that respects the body doing it. Postpartum support that doesn't evaporate at the six-week check. And right alongside all of it — not as an afterthought — the music and the books, because they're not decoration. They're how I get through it.
I built it mainly for myself, for the season of life I'm walking into. It's here in case it helps someone else walking into theirs.
Big period apps have faced FTC action for sharing health data with advertisers after promising not to. Post-Roe, that data carries real risk. The safest database for your cycle is one that doesn't exist on someone else's server.
So that’s how Sapphic Seasons is built right now: no account, no cloud copy, nothing to leak, sell, subpoena, or “accidentally” share. And when accounts arrive — for reminders and syncing between your phone and computer — they’re designed so I still can’t see your information. Not “I promise not to look.” I can’t look. There’s a difference, and it’s the whole point.
A privacy promise you can’t check isn’t worth much. This is exactly what this site does — and doesn’t do — when you open it:
The words, pictures, and fonts on this page are all served from this site itself. The fonts used to load from Google — they don’t anymore; they’re self-hosted here, so opening Sapphic Seasons doesn’t tell Google (or anyone else) that you visited.
There is no Google Analytics, no Meta pixel, no ad tracker, and no third-party script running on this page. Nobody is counting your clicks, building a profile of you, or following you to other sites from here.
Every cycle calculation happens in your browser, and entries save only in that browser, on that device. Nothing about your period, LH tests, or mood is uploaded anywhere — refresh, come back tomorrow, it’s still only yours.
Accounts don’t exist on Sapphic Seasons yet — today there’s nothing to sign up for and nothing being collected. When they launch, this is the design they’ll be built on, so a reminder about ovulation never means handing me your cycle:
Your data gets scrambled — encrypted — on your own device, using a key made from your password. That key never gets sent anywhere in a form anyone else can use. What’s stored is only the scrambled version.
It’s called zero-knowledge, and it means: I don’t hold the key, there’s no admin dashboard where your cycles appear, and I couldn’t read your entries, sell them, or hand them over if I wanted to — I’d only have gibberish. The trade-off is honest, too: if you lose your password and your recovery key, nobody can unlock it for you. Not even me. That inconvenience is the proof.
The thinking happens where your data lives: on your device. Your phone works out your fertile window and LH-test days locally, and the reminder itself stays generic — something like “Your fertile window may be starting — open Sapphic Seasons to see your details.”
The delivery system only ever needs to know “send this nudge to this phone at 9am on Tuesday.” No dates, no cycle details, no health information travels with it — and the details only appear after you unlock the app.
An account would earn its keep with things you actually ask for: ovulation and LH-test reminders, period-coming nudges, sync between phone and computer, and a backup you control. Email would only be for signing in and the reminders you turn on — not marketing lists.
Don’t want an account? You never need one to track. The on-device tracker stays, exactly as it is now.
In short: today, there is no server collecting your information at all. Tomorrow, if accounts launch, they’ll be built so the server can’t read it either. Your information stays worth entering — because it doesn’t become mine.
This demo runs entirely in your browser. Entries save in this browser only (local storage on your device) so you can come back to them here. No account, no cloud, no analytics on your cycle. Clear it anytime.
Saves in this browser only — use Clear below to wipe it.
Estimates use a standard cycle calculation. LH tests are more precise — a positive LH usually means ovulation in 12–36 hours, which is your “call your donor / clinic” signal.
This is an estimate for planning, not contraception and not medical advice. Irregular cycles, stress, illness and postpartum hormones all shift things — talk to your OB/GYN or midwife for personal guidance.
No “your husband” prompts. No assumptions. Just timing, options, and the unglamorous logistics nobody puts in the brochure.
Negative → High → Peak. Start LH strips once a day, then twice a day as lines darken. Peak is go-time: fresh samples are typically used within hours, frozen samples have a shorter window after thaw — confirm timing with your clinic.
ICI at home is the lowest-intervention route. IUI at a clinic places washed sperm in the uterus and is timed tightly to LH peak or a trigger shot. Either way, tracking 2–3 cycles first gives you a real pattern, not a guess.
Donor agreement in writing · STI / genetic screening · Who to call on peak day · Backup plan if timing lands on a weekend · Legal parentage steps in your state (ask a family lawyer early — it varies a lot).
Short, repeatable sessions. If you can talk in full sentences, you're in the right zone. Always clear exercise with your provider, and stop for pain, bleeding, dizziness, or contractions that don't ease with rest.
This is the part I care about most. The 6-week check screens you once, then everyone asks about the baby. Here, you check in weekly, you recover at a human pace, and you keep small pieces of your groove — movement, sleep, asking for help — on purpose.
Slide honestly. This isn't a diagnosis — it's a pattern-spotter for you. If things feel heavy most days, that's information worth sharing with your provider or a therapist.
If you ever feel unsafe, have thoughts of harming yourself, or feel unable to care for yourself — please reach out right away: in the US call/text 988, or contact your provider / local crisis line. Asking for help is prioritizing yourself, too.
Pick one. Not all. One counts.
Real artists, real new music — watch the videos right here, catch up on the latest coverage, and check who's actually on the road. Spotlight, listening, news, and tour dates each get their own space below. (Music news & tour info checked Oct 23, 2026.)
Big-voice, church-kid-turned-queer-anthem songwriting — and my personal favorite of the bunch; I caught her live in Seattle and she is somehow even better in a room. Her second album, Everything All The Time, landed September 25, 2026 on MNRK Nashville, and Clash Magazine gave it an 8/10: “She allows herself to feel, and she allows her songs to take up the space they deserve.” The newest video is “Meryl” — an upbeat, flirty standout from the album, directed by Stephanie Haller. Press play:
“Meryl” — official music video, from Everything All The Time (2026).
“Everything All The Time” — the title track and lead single. Delicate piano, then it cracks wide open.
New to her? Start with “Fat Funny Friend” and “You Might Not Like Her” from the first era — the kind of honesty that makes a bad day feel witnessed, then somehow lighter. Then come back for “Hometown Letdown,” the viral new one where she sings her hometown's rumors back in their own judgmental voice.
Tap a mood — the listening list reshuffles. This is the part of the site I open most, honestly.
G Flip — drummer, producer, non-binary pop force, all momentum. Start with “About You” and “The Worst Person Alive.” Instant energy for a workout or a reset walk.
girl in red — bedroom-pop sapphic canon at this point. Start with “we fell in love in october” and “You Stupid Bitch.” Autumn, yearning, repeat.
Official videos from the current albums — no lyric-video filler. These play right here on the page.
Reneé Rapp — “Mad.” From Bite Me (Aug 2025, Interscope). Alexandra Shipp co-stars as the girlfriend giving her the cold shoulder in a trashed luxury hotel room — theater lungs, zero filter, extremely on brand.
Reneé Rapp — “Leave Me Alone.” The lead single from Bite Me and the era's mission statement. For days you need someone else to be dramatic so you don't have to be.
FLETCHER — “Boy.” The stripped-back lead single from her third album Would You Still Love Me If You Really Knew Me? (July 2025, Capitol) — “This is my heart split open on record.” Piano, acoustic guitar, and a confession.
King Princess — “RIP KP.” Lead single from Girl Violence (Sept 2025, section1), directed by Warren Fu. She called it “a slutty anthem for the lesbians” — dramatic, unhinged, tongue-in-cheek.
Fresh off a sold-out UK/Europe run, Zahm brought Everything All The Time home — plus a playful animated sing-along video for the viral “Hometown Letdown.”
Caesar Live N Loud · Sep 29, 2026The Stephanie Haller-directed video for the album's flirty, feel-good standout — desire, confidence, and an infectious chorus.
BroadwayWorld · Aug 28, 2026The third single from Everything All The Time — a love song about romantic love, friendship, and sisterhood: “I'll find you in every life.”
The Honey POP · Aug 12, 2026On “Hometown Letdown,” leaving the religious community she grew up in, and writing her way out — “being brutally honest with myself through song helped others connect with me.”
Autostraddle · 2025Shipp told Variety: “Being a sexy lesbian video vixen was not on my 2025 bingo card. I am so honored to be a part of it.”
Atwood Magazine · 2025A song-by-song look at the confession that opened her most unvarnished album — “more like a journal entry FLETCHER has decided to let the world read.”
Consequence · Jun 2025Her first album in three years, and her first on indie label section1 — announced alongside the “RIP KP” video and a full tour.
She's on the road right now — the 27-date North American headline run opened Oct 12 in San Diego and wraps Nov 21 in Los Angeles. Remaining dates:
Dates as published by Spill Magazine and listed on Ticketmaster — check there for tickets and any changes.
Reneé Rapp — no upcoming dates announced right now. Her Bite Me arena run hit North America in fall 2025 and Europe in March 2026 (Antwerp, Amsterdam, Berlin, Paris, Manchester, London).
FLETCHER — no upcoming dates announced right now; her intimate “For the First and Final Time” shows were the most recent run.
King Princess — no upcoming dates announced right now; the Girl Violence tour wrapped its US/EU run in late 2025.
Reading is important — it's rest, it's company, it's seeing your love story treated as the main plot instead of a subplot. These are the sapphic writers I keep coming back to, starting with my favorite.
The loyalty read. Slow-burn sapphic romance with real emotional weight — the autographed copies of Those Who Wait and Midnight Rose live on my office shelf for a reason. Start with Those Who Wait if you want the full falling-in-love ache.
Best for: a long evening, a blanket, and feelings.
Start with One Last Stop — a sapphic time-slip romance on the NYC subway that is somehow both fizzy and devastating. Hopeful queer joy, done properly.
Start with Kiss Her Once for Me — a snowy, fake-engagement sapphic romance with a messy, lovable lead. Holiday reading that earns its tears.
Start with Written in the Stars — astrology, fake dating, Seattle rain. Low-angst, high-charm, perfect first sapphic romance for a friend who “doesn't read romance.”
Draft a recommendation in the story box on the Stories tab — title, author, and the mood it fixed for you. The best reading lists I've ever gotten came from other queer women, not algorithms.
Featured launch stories to open the blog — written to reflect the experiences women share here. Open community posting comes when accounts launch; for now, read, feel less alone, and draft your own below.
Write it here first. When you're ready, download it as a file to keep, or copy it to share wherever you choose. Nothing is uploaded from this page.
This is the hangout space — ask the question you'd ask a group chat at midnight, post the photo of the nursery corner or the concert ticket stub, get answers from women actually living it. Below is a working demo of how it will feel: start a thread, attach a picture, comment on others.
Posts as “You,” saved in this browser only.