Privacy, plainly.

I am. Chris Frost, based in the United Kingdom, is the data controller for this site. There is no company between us and no marketing department. Write to [email protected] and it reaches me.

There are two forms on chrisfrost.co and nothing else that asks you for anything.

The Stand-To, my weekly letter, collects your email address. If you tick the optional box, it also records that you want an email when a cohort or a retreat opens. The consent box is required and unticked when you arrive — I never add an address I was not given.

The contact form collects your name, your email address and your message.

Both forms also send me which page you were on when you used them, so I know what you were reading. That is the only thing either form adds to what you typed.

That is the whole list. No phone number, no address, no date of birth, no payment details — nothing on this site takes payment.

Both forms are handled by Formspree, an email-forwarding service. Formspree receives what you type, forwards it to my inbox as an email, and keeps a copy in its own dashboard. That makes Formspree my processor, and it is the only third party that touches anything you submit here. Formspree publishes its own privacy terms at formspree.io.

Your details arrive with me as an ordinary email. They are not loaded into a CRM, an advertising platform or an audience list. They are never sold, rented, swapped or shared, and there is no circumstance in which I would do any of those things.

This site sets no cookies. There is no analytics, no advertising pixel, no heatmap, no session recording and no third-party script of any kind. I am not counting you and I could not tell you who visited.

One thing I cannot claim: the site is hosted on Cloudflare Pages, and like every web host its servers keep short-lived request logs — the sort of thing that records that a page was served, from roughly where, at what time. I do not read them, they are not linked to anything you typed, and there is no report built on them. But they exist, and a privacy notice that pretended otherwise would be worth nothing.

One thing is stored on your own device: if you use the light or dark switch in the corner, your choice is saved in your browser’s local storage so the site opens the way you left it. It never leaves your device, it is not an identifier, and clearing your browser data removes it. Every other file this site loads — the typeface, the stylesheet, the script, the photographs — is served from chrisfrost.co itself, so your browser is not asked to speak to anybody else while you read.

Letter addresses are kept while you want the letter, and deleted when you ask.

Contact messages stay in my inbox while they are useful — if it becomes a conversation about coaching, that thread lives as long as the working relationship does. If it was a one-off enquiry that went nowhere, I clear it within twelve months. Copies held in the Formspree dashboard are cleared on the same schedule.

To come off the letter: reply to any issue with the word stop, or email [email protected]. I take you off the list myself, the same day I read it. There is no automated one-click link yet, and I am not going to pretend there is — when there is, this notice changes on the same day.

You can also ask me what I hold about you, ask for a copy, ask me to correct it, or ask me to delete all of it. One email does any of those. I do not charge for it, I do not ask why, and I reply inside a month.

If you think I have handled your details badly, tell me first — I would rather fix it than have it escalated. You are also entitled to complain to the Information Commissioner’s Office, the UK regulator, at ico.org.uk.