for ten years i engineered software to capture attention. then i read what heartbreak actually does to the brain — and realized every tool i had built was designed to make it worse.
brian martori, founder
Brian Martori and Claude, his golden retriever, in a field of wildflowers
brian & claude nashville, tennessee
the story

i spent a decade inside the attention economy. my job was to keep a thumb moving — variable rewards, streaks, manufactured urgency, the small red badge that pulls you back. the playbook works because it borrows the brain's own reward circuitry and turns it against the person using it.

then a relationship ended, and i learned that the same circuitry runs heartbreak.

this isn't a metaphor. when researchers put recently rejected people in an fMRI scanner and showed them a photo of their ex, the images lit up the ventral tegmental area and nucleus accumbens — the same dopamine pathways that drive craving in addiction. other studies found that intense social rejection recruits the brain's physical pain network. losing someone doesn't just feel like withdrawal and injury. neurologically, it partly is.

fisher et al., journal of neurophysiology (2010); kross et al., pnas (2011).

so i went looking for something to help, and found the same engagement playbook i'd spent years writing. mood trackers with streaks to break. meditation apps with push notifications. a daily guilt tax dressed up as accountability. they were treating a grieving nervous system like a lapsed user to re-activate.

that's the wrong mechanism. a brain in withdrawal doesn't need another dopamine slot machine, and a nervous system stuck in threat doesn't calm down because an app made it feel behind. i didn't want to be optimized. i wanted somewhere quiet to put things down for a minute.

the thesis
so i built the inverse. sanctuary is designed around what the research says a nervous system in recovery actually needs: safety, rhythm, and no penalty for the days you can't show up.
the brain re-regulates through repetition and rest, not pressure. recovery from loss is real biological work, and it is neither fast nor linear. so sanctuary keeps a record of what you've done — never what you missed.
show up, add one small thing, and keep going at your own pace. some days that's easy. some days it isn't. either way still counts.
the design

every decision in sanctuary is the deliberate opposite of a pattern i know works on people. each one has a reason underneath it.

no streaks
healing moves in a spiral, not a line
grief recovery is non-linear; a broken streak punishes biology for doing its job. we count returns, not perfect runs.
no leaderboards
comparison is a stressor, not a motivator
social ranking triggers the same threat response you're already carrying. there are no scores here, and nothing to win.
no urgency
your nervous system sets the pace
no notifications engineered to interrupt, no countdown timers. regulation comes from a rhythm you choose, not alerts that choose you.
nothing gated
the part that helps stays free
the core practice is free, for good. support shouldn't meet a paywall at the worst moment of someone's year.
sanctuary launches september 4, 2026.
small waves, by invitation.
brian martori · nashville, tennessee · founder, sanctuaryapp, inc.
accompanied at all times by claude: a golden retriever named after claude giroux, not the ai. he sleeps under the desk while the code gets written and does not care about product-market fit.