Who it's for
Is Mirorly for you?
It is for anyone with something difficult to say to somebody they work with — and, when they are ready, for hearing the same honesty back. Not for everyone, and we would rather you decided that before you paid than after.
30 of the 45 situations in the catalogue are conversations upward or sideways, not downward. You do not need anybody reporting to you for this to be your problem.
Start here
You have had this conversation four times. In your head.
It is the third deadline that has slipped, and you have rehearsed the opening line on three separate drives home. Each time it came out either too soft to land or hard enough that you would have to mean it.
So you said the easy version instead. Hey, just checking in on timings. They said it was fine. You said great. And the thing you actually needed to say went back in the drawer for another fortnight.
Then it happened again, and now there is a history to explain as well as a deadline, which makes it harder than it was the first time and easier to postpone again.
If any of that is recognisable, the rest of this page is for you.
The work is not knowing what you think. It is knowing how to say it so they can hear it.What the catalogue is for
It's for you if
You decided that nobody else is going to handle this for you.
Four versions of the same person. The job titles are where our readers happen to come from; the thread underneath them is not a job title at all.
New managers, in their first 18 months.
You were promoted because you were good at the work. Nobody handed you a manual, your boss is busy, and the only signal you get about your management is that nobody has quit yet. The conversations you have not had are piling up faster than the ones you have.
Sounds like“Their work has slipped since the promotion and I have said nothing for six weeks.”
Founders who are also the manager.
There is nobody above you to schedule anything. Your co-founder gives you the version calibrated for the friendship, the board talks about strategy rather than about you, and the person whose work you need to talk about is also the person you cannot afford to lose this quarter.
Sounds like“I need to tell my co-founder that the way they run standup is costing us the week.”
Anyone who has to say it sideways or upward.
Senior engineers, designers, analysts, HR teams of one — people with influence and no authority, which is the harder half. Most of what you need to say goes to a peer who does not report to you, or to somebody who does your review.
Sounds like“My manager keeps changing priorities mid-week and I have never once said so.”
Experts running their own practice.
Consultants, lawyers, designers, coaches, fractional anything. Clients tell you what they want and rarely how you are showing up. You are senior enough that nobody volunteers an honest read unless you build the channel for it yourself.
Sounds like“This client keeps moving the scope and I have never put it in writing.”
The connecting thread is not a job title. It is the moment you stop waiting for the conversation to become easier on its own, and decide to prepare it instead.
The bit that feels strange
Two objections, both fair.
“Isn't it manipulative to script a conversation?”
The opposite, usually. An unprepared hard conversation is not more authentic — it is just one where the other person absorbs whatever came out first. Preparing is how you make sure the thing you say is the thing you meant, including the part where you ask what you are missing.
Nothing is generated for you. The names, the dates, the numbers and what it cost are yours, because they are the only part nobody else could know.
“Won't my team think it's odd that I use this?”
Preparing a conversation involves nobody but you — nothing is sent, nobody is notified, and the person you are writing about never hears from us. It is the same private practice as a coach, a therapist or a book on your own shelf.
The one place it becomes visible is a feedback round, where you invite people yourself. Paying for that out of your own pocket carries the opposite message to an HR exercise: I am doing this for myself — which is the framing that earns real answers.
Not for you if
When Mirorly is the wrong tool.
Four things people come here wanting that Mirorly does not do. If one of them is what you need, it is better that you find out on this page than after you have paid.
You run reviews for two hundred people.
You need calibration meetings, an HR dashboard and an audit trail. Mirorly does none of those. It is built for one of those two hundred people, working on their own.
You want it to write the feedback for you.
There is no language model anywhere in this product. The wording came from people and is checked against a fixed set of rules, which is why the same sentence always gets the same answer and you can disagree with it. If you want a model to decide what to say, this is not the tool.
You want to document somebody rather than talk to them.
The register keeps what you agreed so that you can follow it up, not so that it can be produced later as evidence. If what you need is a paper trail for a process, that is a different tool and an honestly different intention.
You want a free account.
There isn't one. The writing tools are open without an account and stay that way; what a subscription buys is that your work is still there in a fortnight. It starts at $9 for a week, $19 for a month or $190 for a year, and the first fourteen days are refundable for any reason or none.
The choice you're actually making
Saying nothing has a price too.
The honest comparison is not Mirorly against another tool. It is Mirorly against the version of you who keeps meaning to have the conversation and doesn't. That version has been running the experiment for a year already, and the result is in: nothing changed, and you noticed.
Twelve months from now the deadline still slips, or the peer still takes the credit, or the priorities still move on Wednesday — and there is one more year of evidence that it does not resolve itself. The cost of that is real and never appears on an invoice, which is exactly why it is easy to keep paying.
We do not need to convince you that $9 is a fair price. We need you to notice the other one.
You have fourteen days to change your mind.
Pick the length that matches what is in front of you — a week, a month or a year. If the answer turns out to be no, the refund sits on the same screen you cancel on, and needs no reason.