I can practically hear the sound of the internet sharpening its pitchforks as I write this.

As a somewhat concerning number of my friends have observed, it’s truly an Internet miracle that I haven’t been cancelled (yet).

And this… may be what changes that.

But {{First Name}}, you get to choose the hills you die on.

Sometimes it’s worth standing up for something even when it’s unpopular — to boldly plant your flag, even if it’s in no man’s land.

To own what you’re truly passionate about instead of letting your fears of the fallout keep you silent.

And if there’s anything I’ve been truly passionate about for ~33 years of my life, it’s this:

deep breath

Home Alone 2 > Home Alone 1

I SAID IT.

I’M NOT TAKING IT BACK and I’M NOT BACKING DOWN.

This is not an opinion.

This is a boldface, fact-checked, put-it-on-Wikipedia truth.

(Cite me or bite me. I care not.)

And yes, I know.

The sequel is almost never better than the original.

Most of the time, the sequel is just a cash-grab afterthought with a "plot" conceived in the back of an Uber at 2am. Where half the original cast — and all the original magic — is missing except a few people who needed the money.

(I’m pretty sure the entire plot of Moana 2 is just everyone walking around shouting, “HAS ANYONE SEEN LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA???”)

But Home Alone: Lost in New York is The Godfather, Part II of the Christmas canon.

It’s The Empire Strikes Back Darth Vader-is-your-daddy reveal, but with tinsel.

It’s when Terminator 2 discovered CGI and something called character development.

It’s “Wow, we found a winning recipe, now let’s add a sprinkle of Maldon."

Hear me out —

Kevin, alone in his house, abandoned by his terrible-family-that-gets-too-much-screen-time, doing booby traps to protect his home from the Wet Bandits = pretty funny.

Kevin in New York City evading and tricking the staff of the Plaza hotel, befriending a surprisingly complex homeless woman, learning the value of The Season, AND booby trapping an epic NYC brownstone to protect a lovely rich elderly man’s toy store and SAVE POOR KIDS / CHRISTMAS ITSELF from the Wet Bandits = infinitely better.

The lovely rich elderly man doesn’t even end up being creepy?!

It is a damn Christmas miracle.

What if instead of getting to spend a holiday break alone at home, you spend Christmas alone IN NEW YORK.

In a LIMO.

With your dad’s CREDIT CARDS.

My entire vision board since I was 9.

Just out there casually sightseeing, feeding pigeons, and telling the room service waiter “make it three scoops,” because you’re not driving. #iconbehavior

And sure, Home Alone gave us a great concept, innovative ways to use paint buckets, and Joe Pesci’s forehead letterpressed by an iron.

But Home Alone 2 gives us a tour of New York City at Christmas time, Tim Curry crunching on scenery like it’s crudité, and easily my favorite scene, Kevin, 9 year-old psycho-genius, conning the staff into professing their love on their knees, in fear of their lives, with nothing but a remote and an age-inappropriate movie on cable.

“Don't give me that. You been smooching everybody! Snuffy, Al, Leo... Little Moe with the gimpy leg, Cheeks, Boney Bob, Cliff... I could go on forever, baby.”​

Is there anything more Spirit of Christmas than that?

I realize I’m at risk of belaboring the point here…

But right now, it’s time to choose where you stand.

Home Alone 1 < Home Alone 2.

(Agree? Disagree? I am not budging on this, but I welcome your feedback.)

The only thing I feel even more strongly about right now?

2026 is The Year of Your Wellness: The Sequel.

Because while it’s possible 2025 was your Empire Strikes Back —
a year you nailed it with peak competence, quiet resilience, and just enough grit to keep the ship moving…

(If so, first of all: congratulations. Second of all: please teach the rest of us.)

If you’re anything like most of the women I work with, 2025 was more like Sharknado 3.

We technically survived.
But everything — including our nervous systems — is a little mangled. 😬

Here’s the thing you and I need to realize.

You do not need a whole new body.
A whole new routine.
A whole new personality with better morning habits.

I repeat: do not burn it all down and start over.

→ You just need a better sequel.

Because great sequels don’t erase the original story.
They build on what already worked… and add a little Maldon.

Even if it’s just one thing.
Especially if it’s just one thing.

If 2025 gave you:

• a habit that actually stuck
• a way of eating that made you feel steady (not obsessive)
• movement you didn’t dread
• a boundary that changed everything
• a routine that helped you sleep better
• one moment where you thought, oh… this feels good

Great.

That’s your 20%.

(According to the Pareto Principle, 80% of your results come from 20% of your efforts. Which means the answer is not “try harder.” It’s “do more of what already supports you.”)

Recently, I took a hard look at the difference between the seasons where I felt grounded in my body… and the seasons where I was technically “doing all the right things” but still exhausted.

And here’s what surprised me:

I wasn’t less disciplined in the harder seasons.
I was just doing more.

More supplements.
More workouts.
More rules.
More tracking.
More noise.

In movie language: I added more explosions, but lost the plot.

So if we want next year to feel different — calmer, steadier, more sustainable — it helps to look at what great sequels actually do well.

I think it boils down to three things:

A great sequel doesn’t reinvent the main character.
It leans into what already made her compelling.

For your wellness, that means:
You don’t need a brand-new protocol.
You don’t need more information.
You need more of what already made you feel good in your body.

The meals that grounded you.
The movement that regulated you.
The routines that fit your life.

Give yourself more of that.

If 2025 was “protect the house,” 2026 is “save Christmas / New York City.”

A great sequel doesn’t repeat the same setting — it raises the stakes.

In wellness terms?
Less survival mode.
More capacity.

More ease.
More trust in your body.
More “I know what works for me now” energy.

Your routines should feel like the New York City version of your wellness — same character, bigger world.

(If Kevin could set traps in his house, imagine what he could do with an empty brownstone that’s under construction.)

A sequel has a job to do.
It moves the story forward without replaying the same struggle in higher definition.

So as you look toward next year, ask yourself:

What am I tired of managing?
What feels unsustainable?
What does my body keep asking for that I keep negotiating with?

And what would it look like to actually listen?

Because the women I work with don’t need more discipline.
They need support that sticks.

And if, like me, you’re feeling ready to make 2026 your Season 2 — calmer, clearer, and infinitely more livable — keep an eye on your inbox.

Something very Kevin in a limo ordering three scoops because why not is coming soon. 👀

(After all, you can’t bring big sequel energy with a wellness routine that still thinks it’s in the pilot episode.)

Details coming shortly.

But for now:

Your favorite Tim Curry impersonator,

— Genta

P.S. As always, I live for your email response, so hit me back with your thoughts. I read and respond to every email. Enjoyed this email? Agree? Disagree? I’m all ears.
​
(Full disclosure: I'm one week behind, but if you're waiting on an email from me, it's coming!)