it's giving Benjamin Button

The last time I went to the doctor, I was still clutching a Blackberry.
Living off Lean Cuisines.
Justifying most of my decisions with “YOLO” and zero follow-through.

Different zip code.
Different weight class.
Different decade of life.
And if we’re being honest? A completely different operating system.

Back then, I couldn’t name what felt off.
It wasn’t a crisis—just a low-grade hum of discomfort I couldn’t quite pin down.

I wasn’t burned out.
But I was definitely crispy around the edges.

I hadn’t officially broken up with the healthcare system.
There was no last straw. No dramatic exit.
I just sort of… went silent.

After enough rushed visits and “your labs look fine” follow-ups, you stop expecting answers.
Eventually, you stop asking altogether.

So you do what most high-functioning women do:
You take pride in adapting.
You rationalize the symptoms.
You master the art of “functioning” while quietly feeling like sht.

And for a while, it works.
Until your body stops whispering—and starts demanding answers.

After years of ghosting my own medical to-do list—
bloodwork, check-ups, anything involving a paper gown—
I finally hit a point where “just coping” started to feel less like a strategy and more like… well… avoidance.

So I did something radical.

I booked the bloodwork.

Not a check-up.
A tune-up.
Possibly a full-blown system reboot.

Which is how I ended up at Quest Diagnostics at 8:00 a.m. on a Tuesday—
in a hoodie I stole from my husband, clutching the chair like it might physically repel the needle I knew was coming.

It wasn’t brave.
It was necessary.

And yes—I took a photo.
Because if I was about to donate half my blood volume to science, I needed proof I showed up.

I was there because I’d just joined Function Health—a platform that runs over 100 biomarker tests and actually shows you what’s going on inside your body, instead of patting you on the head, saying “you’re fine,” and scheduling your next appointment for 2026.

It’s co-founded by Dr. Mark Hyman, who, fun fact, was one of the guest lecturers during my training at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition.

So this felt a little full circle.
Like, “Hey Mark, it’s me. Ready to own my mitochondria now.”

Did I fully understand what a biomarker was when I walked in?
Kind of.

Did I hydrate like my life depended on it because someone on Reddit said that dehydrated blood draws are basically a slow death?
Obviously.

Still, I showed up.
Hoodie on. Heart racing. Ice water sloshing in my Yeti.
Trying to look like a woman who casually tests her biomarkers every quarter—while quietly praying, please let me pass out with dignity if I’m going to pass out at all.

Three weeks—and what felt like 87 vials of blood—later, the results landed in my inbox.

I was bracing for a gentle “You’re mildly anemic” or a “Maybe stop drinking coffee like it’s a personality trait.”

And then, I opened the portal.
And saw this:

I just… stared.
At the screen. At the numbers. At my entire health history suddenly doing a cartwheel.
Then I laughed—like, an actual out-loud “no way” laugh.
Then I double-checked the name—just in case someone else’s glow-up had wandered into my inbox by mistake.

📊 Biological Age: 21.8
📅 Calendar Age: 35.2

Thirteen. Point. Four. Years. Younger.
What. In the cellular regeneration.

, I screamed.
Not out loud—but in the way where your whole body kind of forgets what to do with itself.
Internally?
Panic at the disco. Emotional confetti. Existential whiplash. Fireworks.
Possibly a standing ovation from my mitochondria.

I know what you’re thinking:
“Genta. HOW??”

Totally fair. Honestly, I had the same question.

Because I didn’t get these results from eating goji berries in the Himalayas
or milking a goat named Luna for raw dairy at sunrise.

I didn’t follow a 17-step protocol that involved cryotherapy, ozone therapy, or journaling under a full moon while microdosing self-worth.
I didn’t start cold plunging.
I didn’t wear a glucose monitor for fun.
I didn’t even optimize anything.

Instead… I chose ease.
Radical, I know.
Someone alert the wellness authorities. 😅 

Let’s rewind to where this actually started:
Corporate burnout.
35+ pounds heavier.
Hormones acting like unsupervised toddlers.
Hair thinning. Skin dull. Mood swinging like a wrecking ball.

At the time, I wasn’t thinking “reverse aging.”
I was thinking: “How do I not feel like SHT all the time?”

My body was screaming.
Not loud enough to demand an ER visit.
Just loud enough to whisper,
“This isn’t working.”
On repeat.

I didn’t need an aesthetic glow-up.
I just needed to feel like myself again.

So I did what any wellness girlie does when she’s teetering on the edge of an identity crisis:
I filled my bathtub with ice and called it healing.
(I’ve gone on the record about this before.)

The water was aggressively cold.
The bathtub was aggressively… not spa-like.
The result?

Regret.
Full-body. Existential. Regret.

(For those who missed it: I lasted 11 seconds, questioned all my life choices, and emerged with a new understanding that voluntary hypothermia is not, in fact, my love language.)

That moment was the turning point.
Somewhere between “Is this rewiring my nervous system?” and “Why am I doing this?”—I realized:

I don’t want to suffer to be well.
And I don’t think you should have to either.

So instead of doubling down on biohacking my way to enlightenment, I did something outrageous:
I backed off.
No pressure. No perfectionism. Just… less.

I started choosing what felt good.
Not what was trending.
Not what was going viral.
(Looking at you TikTok cucumber salad.)
Just… supportive.

Here’s what that actually looked like:

• Going for walks instead of forcing workouts that made me want to cry
• Prioritizing sleep like my sanity depended on it (because it did)
• Taking actual breaks instead of glorifying hustle
• Relearning how to be in my body instead of constantly fixing it
• Letting meals be repeated instead of perfectly balanced
• Giving myself grace when I had nothing “productive” to show for the day

None of it felt like a breakthrough.
It felt… soft. Quiet. Almost too simple to matter.

But simplicity is what matters.

Because when I finally got my Function Health results back and saw those numbers, it hit me:

I didn’t “reverse age” through control. I did it through care.

Here’s the thing no one tells you about healing:
It’s not sexy.
It’s not dramatic.
It doesn’t look like a before-and-after photo.

It looks like:

• Repeating the same nourishing meal for three days straight
• Taking supplements even when you don’t feel anything happening
• Saying no to things that drain you
• Being okay with not being “optimized”

It’s boring.
And boring heals.

Function Health gave me the receipts for what my body had been whispering all along:
“You’re doing better than you think.”

So if you’ve been feeling off—physically, mentally, or just vaguely “ugh”—and wondering if something deeper might be going on?
I can’t recommend Function Health enough.

It’s not a trendy protocol or a bandwagon biohack.
It’s a quiet, honest deep dive into what’s actually going on inside your body.

And because I’ve been with Function since the early days, they gave me a personal code to share with my community.

🎁 Your Backstage Pass
Click here to skip the waitlist
Use code: GSPAHOVAZQUEZ10

Not sponsored. Just something that worked—and now it’s yours too.

Am I going to start telling people I’m 21 again?
No.
(Okay maybe once. For the bit.)

But what I am going to do is this:
Keep showing up.
Keep choosing softness.
Keep letting my body lead—even if it takes the scenic route.

Because this version of me doesn’t need to be perfect.
She just needs to feel alive.
And right now?
She does.

Tell me—what’s one wellness choice you’ve made recently that felt good, not extreme?

Hit reply and share. I want to hear it all—from “I finally drank water” to “I said no to a plan and took a nap instead.”
(You know, the kind of wins that don’t make Instagram… but totally count.)

I'll be nodding along, probably in my coziest hoodie, cheering you on and pretending I’m 21 again. Emotionally, I’m still 35. Biologically? We’re vibing.

Your Functionally 21.8 Friend,

– Genta 💛

P.S. If you enjoyed this email, I’d very sincerely love to hear your thoughts. Hit reply and let me know if you liked it / anything stood out / if you've ever cringed at your own wellness phase.

If this was your first GW Edit and you made it all the way through, I’d love to hear that, too! You’re my kind of person.