Reflekta did not start with a pitch deck.
It did not start with a venture fund, a hackathon, or a whiteboard covered in inscrutable acronyms.
It started the way most meaningful things do. With a feeling. With a conversation. With the quiet, slightly uncomfortable realization that something important was slipping through our fingers.
Hi. I’m Adam Drake. Along with my co-founder Miles Spencer, I helped build Reflekta because we couldn’t stop thinking about the same question.
What happens to us when we’re no longer in the room?
Not just the obvious stuff. The dates and milestones and polished bios. But the good stuff. The stories you tell when you’re relaxed. The way you explain a lesson you learned the hard way. The laugh that always comes a beat too late. The perspective that only comes from having lived a whole, messy, beautiful life.
We realized something that felt both obvious and alarming.
We are surrounded by technology that preserves everything except the things that matter most.
We back up photos obsessively. We archive emails we’ll never read again. We store documents, texts, and voice notes like digital squirrels preparing for winter.
And yet, somehow, the soul of a person still disappears far too easily.
Miles and I have both lived long enough to see it happen. Someone passes. Or someone is simply no longer accessible in the same way they once were. And suddenly there’s this hollow feeling. Not just grief, but frustration.
“I wish I had asked one more question.”
“I wish I remembered how they told that story.”
“I wish my kids could know them the way I did.”
Reflekta was built to answer that wish.
At its heart, Reflekta is about capturing people as they are. Not as statues. Not as sanitized highlight reels. But as living, breathing storytellers. Full of opinions. Contradictions. Humor. Wisdom. And the occasional rambling tangent that somehow ends up being the most meaningful part.
We believe legacy should feel alive.
That’s why we talk about living legacies. Why we moved away from cold, clinical language and toward something warmer and more human. Why Reflektions are meant to be interacted with, not just observed.
You don’t come to Reflekta to mourn. You come to connect.
Now, an important thing to know about us.
Reflekta is not a massive company with offices scattered across time zones and a support email that vanishes into the void.
We are a small team. A very real group of humans who care deeply about what we’re building. We argue about wording. We obsess over tone. We test things, break things, fix them, and then test them again. Sometimes late at night. Sometimes over coffee. Occasionally while wondering if we should really be doing this at all, which is usually a good sign that we are.
We built Reflekta because we wanted something like this to exist. For our families. For our kids. For ourselves.
And yes, we also built it because we believe the world could use more empathy, more listening, and more intergenerational understanding. Because stories have a funny way of softening edges. Because hearing someone explain how they survived a hard chapter can change how you face your own.
Also, if we’re being honest, because it’s kind of magical.
There is something quietly thrilling about seeing someone light up when they realize, “Oh. This matters. Someone will actually know me.”
That moment never gets old.
So that’s why we built Reflekta.
Not because it was easy. Not because it fit neatly into a category. But because it felt necessary.
We’re grateful you’re here. We’re excited about what’s ahead. And we’re just getting started.
If you ever have questions, ideas, or thoughts you want to share, reach out. You’ll be talking to real people. Probably one of us.
And we promise, we’re listening.