Hey {{first name}},

I posted something on Instagram last week that made me cringe a little, but it also felt like a deep exhale to finally say it out loud. So I wanted to expand on it here, in a space that feels slower and more honest.

After years in the wellness space, I still catch myself falling for the highlight reel.
Not the obvious stuff, the green-juice selfies or “I only eat wild-caught salmon” captions. I see through those.

It’s the subtle stuff that gets me. The belief systems that sneak in through the back door of my consciousness while I’m scrolling, thinking I’m just “staying inspired.”

Some days, I genuinely can’t tell if a choice I’m making is mine… or if it’s something I absorbed from a thousand perfectly lit posts telling me what “wellness” should look like.

Here’s what I mean.

I follow wellness creators all the time, and one night I caught myself getting actually stressed about seed oils at a restaurant. Like… I’m out to dinner trying to enjoy my meal, and suddenly my brain’s spiraling because the dressing might not be “clean enough.”

I mean, I do try to avoid seed oils when I can. I get that they’re inflammatory and not ideal, but I don’t want to live in a state of fear over a salad dressing. I don’t want to let the internet convince me I’m failing at wellness every time I eat something I didn’t personally prepare.

And last year, my husband Danny and I started looking at properties with acres and acres of land — big, open spaces, lots of trees, the whole thing. It felt dreamy… we even put down a deposit, until I caught myself asking, “Wait, do I even want this?”

We love walkability. I like being five minutes from an espresso, not forty from a grocery store. But we’d both subconsciously absorbed this “slow-living, farm-to-table” aesthetic that made it feel like the only version of wellness worth aspiring to. It’s f**king embarrassing {{first name}}, but it’s the truth.

The algorithm isn’t just showing us content. It’s shaping what we believe we should want. And most of us don’t even realize it’s happening.

This isn’t just about wasted time or digital overwhelm. It’s about identity distortion.

When you see the same narratives over and over, you start to question your own instincts. You start eating, dressing, and even dreaming based on someone else’s version of “healthy” or “successful.”

And it’s sneaky, because it feels like empowerment — but really, it’s erosion.
Erosion of your own inner compass.

I’ve seen incredible women lose touch with what actually makes them feel good because they’ve absorbed a million “rules” from the internet: Drink this. Avoid that. Wake up earlier. Journal harder.

No wonder so many of us feel disconnected from our own bodies. We’ve outsourced our self-trust to a feed.

I don’t think the answer is deleting every app or moving off-grid (trust me, I tried).
It’s discernment. To become conscious curators of our own mental environment.

Here’s what’s helped me find my way back:

💭 Taking micro-breaks from categories.
If I notice anxiety bubbling up around a topic — say, food rules or business growth — I pause that kind of content for a few days. Let my nervous system breathe.

📚 Feeding my mind, not my algorithm.
I’m reading more books, having more in-person long conversations, real life. Anything that doesn’t demand a swipe every 3 seconds.

🪞 Asking this one question before deciding anything:
If social media didn’t exist, would I still want this? The answer usually reveals what I actually believe versus what I’ve seen influenced to believe.

🌿 Curating for resonance, not reaction.
Most people don’t realize they have control over what they see. I actively engage with content that aligns with my values and scroll past content that doesn’t. I’m training my algorithm to serve me, not the other way around.

This isn’t about being weak or easily influenced. You’re not broken for absorbing the energy of what you consume. You’re human.

But in a world built on virility, not truth, not your wellbeing… we have to choose our inputs like we choose our food: intentionally.

Here’s what I want you to know: None of this is wrong. The people sharing their perspectives aren’t wrong. The health advocates aren’t wrong. The Wellness Coaches aren’t wrong. I’m literally one of those people who shares my beliefs loud and clear on the internet.

But that doesn’t mean their way, or my way, is your way.

Your feed is not your moral compass. You are.

The goal isn’t to be uninfluenced. It’s to be aware. To build such a strong relationship with your own voice that you can scroll in peace, inspired by others without abandoning yourself.

Because here’s what I’ve learned: Wellness isn’t about becoming her. It’s about remembering you. Knowing the difference between your own voice and the echo of everything you’ve consumed.

The question isn’t whether you’re being influenced. The question is: Are you choosing what influences you?

I’m curious…

What’s one belief you’ve been holding lately that might not actually be yours?

Hit reply and tell me. I read every response.

Xo,
Genta