Longtime fans were stunned when Hoda Kotb announced her departure from the TODAY Show, but now fresh details are emerging about what really prompted her exit. As Hoda launches a new self-help project that some critics are calling a ‘money-grabbing’ move, questions are swirling about her true motivations. Is her latest venture a genuine passion project, or is there more to the story than meets the eye? With speculation rife and fans eager for answers, we uncover the truth behind Hoda’s bold new chapter—and what it means for her future in the spotlight.
When Hoda Kotb tearfully announced she was leaving the TODAY Show, America was sold a story sweeter than a Hallmark movie. She was 60, a single mom to two young adopted daughters, and she’d finally realized what really matters: time with her kids. She was stepping out of the spotlight, she said, because childhood is fleeting, unrecoverable, and she wanted to be a great mom. Cue the applause, the soft piano music, and the Instagram quotes about “priorities.” But anyone who’s watched morning TV for more than five minutes could smell something fishy in the air—because in the world of network television, nobody just walks away from millions for a few extra school runs.
Here’s the real talk about fake people: Hoda didn’t leave because she was overcome by maternal devotion. She left because NBC was about to slash her salary—hard. Reports vary, but Hoda was banking anywhere from $7 million to a jaw-dropping $20 million a year, reading from a teleprompter and chit-chatting with B-list celebrities about “self-actualizing.” Eventually, someone at NBC woke up and asked, “What are we paying for?” The answer: not much. So, with a pay cut looming, Hoda made her grand exit, cloaked in family values and self-sacrifice, but really just getting ahead of the humiliation.
And did anyone really think Hoda would stay gone? Please. Four months after her “retirement,” she was already back on the TODAY Show set, back on the cover of People, and—surprise, surprise—launching her very own self-help app, Joy 101. Because nothing says “I want to spend more time with my kids” like a full-blown media tour and a new business venture. Hoda insists this isn’t just any app—oh no, it’s “curated” content, which is PR-speak for “we collected a bunch of generic advice and slapped my face on it.” For $16.99 a month or $99 a year, you too can be told to “quiet the noise” and “find your joy.” Groundbreaking.
Watching Hoda’s return is like watching someone try to reheat last night’s leftovers and pass them off as a gourmet meal. The bitterness seeps through her smile; she can’t hide it. She’s back with her old pal Jenna Bush Hager, but the dynamics have shifted. Hoda’s no longer the queen bee—she’s a guest, hustling her app, forced to swallow the indignity of being just another hustler in the world of daytime TV. And if you think the TODAY Show is all hugs and heart-to-hearts, think again. Behind the scenes, it’s a snake pit, and Hoda’s learned the hard way that in TV, you’re only as good as your last ratings bump.
She’s peddling Joy 101 like it’s the answer to all of life’s problems, but the content is as basic as she is—breath work, meditation, sleep tips, and endless platitudes about “stepping into a new chapter.” All shot in her suspiciously pristine home, complete with white furniture (with two kids, really?) and bookshelves with zero books. John Waters once said if you go home with someone and they don’t have books, don’t sleep with them. Well, if you’re taking life advice from someone with empty bookshelves, maybe rethink your choices.
The irony is rich: Hoda claims her daughter’s type 1 diabetes diagnosis “shook her to her core” and reoriented her priorities, but somehow, this epiphany led to launching a business and doing a media blitz. She’s out here selling “joy” to women who can barely afford groceries, never mentioning the nannies, private drivers, and housekeepers that make her “authentic” life possible. It’s the same old self-help snake oil, just with a new label and a hefty subscription fee.
If Hoda really found the secret to happiness, she’d be living it in private, not chasing the next dopamine hit from TV cameras and magazine covers. But here she is, back in the spotlight, hustling for relevance, hoping America’s women will buy what she’s selling—literally. So before you hand over your hard-earned cash for Joy 101, ask yourself: do you really need another millionaire celebrity telling you how to live your life? Or is it time to tune out the noise, skip the app, and find your own joy—no subscription required.
