how not to die (and other lessons from Netflix)

Tuesday night. My couch. A bag of popcorn within arm’s reach.

I had plans—productive ones. But like all great plans, they crumbled under Netflix’s most judgmental question:

“Are you still watching?” 

(Excuse me, Netflix. How dare you.)

The algorithm did its thing and I stumbled across Don’t Die, a new documentary about the science of living longer.

The tagline? Avoid death and live forever.

I mean, okay, Netflix. I’ll bite.

So, I hit play.

For 90 minutes, I was sucked into the world of Bryan Johnson, the billionaire tech entrepreneur who spends $2 million a year trying to reverse aging.

Meanwhile, I’m just trying to remember to put on sunscreen before I leave the house.

I have to admit, it was fascinating.

Bryan eats the same 2,250-calorie vegan meal every day. He gets hooked up to a dizzying number of medical devices to track every single thing happening in his body.

He goes to bed in a helmet that monitors his brain activity.

His supplement list includes more than 100 compounds taken as powders, tablets, and capsules, designed to support different aspects of his health.

And he calls this his Blueprint.

I call finishing a bottle of water before 3 p.m. a win.

But here’s the thing—Don’t Die wasn’t the motivational longevity guide I expected.

Instead, it left me with questions.

Questions like:

What’s the point of living forever if it means eating the same quinoa salad every single day?

Is it really a life if you spend most of it in labs, hooked up to machines, or monitoring your brainwaves in a futuristic sleep helmet?

And the biggest one: What are we actually chasing here?

Because there’s this moment in the documentary that I can’t stop thinking about.

Bryan is sitting at his dining table, eating one of his hyper-optimized meals. The plate is immaculate—designed down to the molecule to extend his lifespan by a fraction of a percent.

And yet, he’s eating it alone.

No friends. No family. No dog under the table hoping for a fallen bite. Just Bryan and his superfood salad, like a scene out of a dystopian health manual.

And that’s when it hit me: Is this it? Is this really what we’re all striving for?

I thought about the little moments in my life that bring me joy:

Like making my favorite pomodoro pasta with my husband Danny—the smell of garlic sizzling in olive oil filling the kitchen, music playing in the background, and me sneaking bites of Parmesan straight from the block while he pretends not to notice.

Toby, my neighbor’s dog, staring at me with his best “I’m starving” eyes, following my every move, hoping for an “accidental” treat to hit the floor (spoiler: it usually does).

Or those late-night game nights with friends, where we laugh so hard my cheeks hurt, my stomach aches, and I completely lose track of time.

Would I trade any of that for kale shakes, brain helmets, and data readouts?

Absolutely not.

Bryan’s approach feels like the opposite of what makes life meaningful. Sure, it’s optimized—but it’s also sterile.

Because wellness isn’t about numbers on a chart. It’s about living a life that feels good.

It’s about connection.
Joy.
Balance.

The things that make life worth living.

Sure, Bryan might live to be 120, but if his days look like that—if the cost of “not dying” is isolation and loneliness—then what’s the point?

I get it. We all want to feel healthy and take care of ourselves. We want energy, strength, and maybe even a few extra years.

But what’s the point of living longer if the process strips away everything that makes life enjoyable?

Wellness doesn’t have to be all or nothing.

You don’t have to eat the same salad every day or biohack your way to happiness. The goal isn’t to live forever—it’s to make the years you do have richer, fuller, and more meaningful.

For me, wellness looks like balance:

Drinking the water but also enjoying the wine.
Taking the walk and indulging in a Netflix binge.
Making space for the people and moments that bring joy to my life—not just ticking off boxes on a health checklist.

Because at the end of the day, the best “Blueprint” isn’t Bryan’s. It’s the one you create for yourself.

So here’s my question for you:

What makes your life feel meaningful? What’s one small thing you could do today to take care of yourself and enjoy yourself?

For me, it’s keeping things simple.

So no, I don’t have a Blueprint. But I do have a bottle of water, a love for popcorn, and the occasional willingness to swap a Netflix binge for a walk outside.

And honestly? That feels pretty good to me.

But here’s the thing—finding that balance isn’t always easy. The world constantly tells us to do more, be more, optimize more. And sometimes it’s hard to resist the pull of “more.”

That’s why I created The Glow Social Club.

The Glow Social Club is for women who are done chasing perfection and ready to embrace what actually feels good.

It’s a community that helps you reconnect with what matters: joy, connection, and taking care of yourself in a way that’s sustainable, meaningful, and yes—fun.

Because wellness shouldn’t feel like another chore. It should feel like coming home to yourself.

If that resonates with you, come join us. Let’s rewrite the rules together and create a life that’s messy, joyful, and unapologetically ours.

Your unofficial spokesperson for imperfectly living well,

– Genta

P.S. Whether you’re picking another Netflix episode or stepping outside for a walk, just remember—balance means making room for both. Life’s too short for all-or-nothing thinking. 😉