We are a family who moved from the United States to Spain, and we did the paperwork ourselves — the forms, the authentications, the sworn translations, the appointments, all of it. This is the thing we wanted to exist while we were doing it.
Nothing about it was impossible. It was just uncharted, in a way that surprised us: every answer existed somewhere, and no two sources agreed, and the order things had to happen in turned out to matter more than any single form.
Our story — why we left, how we chose Spain, what the first weeks were actually like. Two or three paragraphs, in your voice rather than a company voice. The bit people will remember is the specific detail, not the summary.
Your own introduction — what you do here, what you did before, and what you care about getting right for the families who use this. A short paragraph on the part of the move you ended up owning, since that is the part you know better than anyone.
The photograph on the home page is the same moment, thirty seconds after the door opened.
Your introduction. Worth naming the thing that made this concrete — that you went through the teletrabajador route yourself and have the whole file to show for it — without turning the page into a case study.
We had the list. What we did not have was a way to look at the kitchen table and know what was done, what was in the post, and what had to start this week or it would not arrive in time.
A box with a slot for every document does that without anyone opening an app. That is the whole idea, and it came from four months of a dining table covered in paper.