Most of us never sit down to think about this. It feels superstitious, somehow, as if writing it down might bring it closer. But the people who really needed to be ready — they never expected to either. A car accident. An unexpected diagnosis. A few days unconscious in a hospital. The unremarkable kinds of disruption that leave families standing at the edge of someone's locked digital life with no way in.
This page isn't about death. It's about preparation — the same kind of quiet preparation we already do for other things. We back up our laptops. We tell our neighbours when we're going on holiday. We write addresses on Christmas cards in case the postman reads them.
The strange thing is that we've built our entire lives behind passcodes and forgotten to leave a key.
A few questions to sit with.
Read them slowly. There are no right answers — only honest ones.
i.If your phone were handed to someone you trust right now, would they be able to unlock it?
ii.Does anyone you love know the password to your primary email account?
iii.If you stopped paying for things tomorrow, would your family know which subscriptions to cancel?
iv.Where, exactly, are your most important documents — your passport, your will, your insurance papers — and would someone find them without you?
v.If you have photographs you cherish, are they stored somewhere your family could reach, or only on a device they cannot open?
vi.Is there anyone in your life who would need to be told something — about a relationship, a project, a debt, a kindness — that only you can communicate?
vii.If you keep money in any digital wallet or crypto exchange, does anyone know it exists?
viii.Have you ever told the person you'd want to handle these things that they're the one you'd want?
If most of those questions made you pause, you are entirely normal. Almost everyone leaves these things unspoken. But the cost of leaving them unspoken is paid by someone else, later, at the worst possible time.
Preparation, done quietly, costs almost nothing. It takes an hour, perhaps a little more. It can be done at a kitchen table on a Sunday afternoon, with a cup of tea, in the kind of unremarkable mood that doesn't feel like a milestone.
The kindest thing you can leave behind is not money. It is clarity.
The free guide below is a gentle, structured walkthrough. Not a will. Not legal advice. Just a small companion document to help you think through what someone you trust would actually need — and how to leave it for them in a way they could find and use.
Free Personal Preparation Guide
Get the guide. Take an hour.
A quiet, well-designed PDF. Not a sales pitch. Use it once, share it with your family, and put it away. US edition.
fideby
A quieter way to leave instructions.
Fideby is a structured, secure space to write down what someone you trust would need — and decide exactly who can access which parts of it, and when.
Why should I think about this now if I'm young and healthy?
Because the people who needed this most never expected to. Sudden illness, accidents, hospitalisation — these don't wait for a convenient age. Preparing now is a kindness to the people you love, not a prediction about yourself.
Isn't this what a will is for?
A will handles legal and financial inheritance. It does not give your family the passcode to your phone, the location of your important documents, or instructions for cancelling subscriptions. Digital preparation is a separate, practical layer — and most wills don't touch it.
What's the absolute minimum I should leave behind?
At minimum: how to unlock your phone, how to access your primary email, where important documents are kept, and a list of recurring subscriptions. Even this short list spares your family weeks of difficulty.
Where should I store this information safely?
Not in a notes app on your phone (which itself may be locked) and not in an unencrypted document. Use a structured, secure tool designed for this — like Fideby — or a sealed physical copy stored with your will.
How often should I update it?
Once a year is enough for most people. Set a recurring reminder on a date you'll remember — your birthday, the start of a tax year — and review the essentials in under fifteen minutes.
Should I tell anyone I've done this?
Yes. The whole point is that someone you trust knows where to look. Tell at least one person — even just that the document exists and roughly where to find it. The details can stay private until they're needed.