Hoda Kotb Forced Out of ‘Today’? The Truth Behind Her Exit

Renowned broadcaster Hoda Kotb’s recent exit from a popular talk show has caused mixed reactions. But it’s her reasons for leaving that are really sparking conversations online.

Journalist Hoda Kotb recently announced her decision to step down as co-anchor of the “Today” show, leading to widespread discussions on social media and fan forums.

Many viewers have expressed surprise at the sudden announcement, as Hoda has been a central figure on the show for years. Some fans speculate there may be behind-the-scenes drama, while others think it could be a personal decision.

TV personality Hoda Kotb, who co-anchored the “Today” show with Savannah Guthrie for over five years, recently opened up about her journey during a live broadcast. Her full statement was later shared on the “Today” show’s Instagram page.

She said, “My time at NBC has been the longest professional love affair of my life, thanks to all of you. ‘Today’ and its amazing people never change—you all handle everything with grace and courage.”

In a letter, Hoda reflected on her 26-year career at NBC, which included ten years with “Dateline,” seven years on the 7 a.m. hour, and sixteen years on the 10 a.m. hour.She revealed that she had been thinking about this decision for a while, unsure if she was ready. However, her 60th birthday helped confirm that it was the right time to move forward.

Hoda talked about her meaningful career, nearly three decades long, and stressed the importance of spending more time with her daughters and her mother.

Although she will miss everyone, Hoda expressed excitement for the future and promised to continue working until early 2025, giving her time to discuss future plans with fans.

She assured viewers that the “Today” show team would continue to thrive, regardless of any changes. Hoda also expressed her gratitude to the NBC family, saying they would always have a special place in her heart.

Born in Egypt, Hoda has faced significant personal challenges throughout her career. She was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the treatment made it impossible for her to have children.

After surviving cancer, her marriage to tennis coach Burzis Kanga ended in divorce a year later. At the time, Hoda had accepted that she might never become a mother.

Despite that, Hoda always dreamed of motherhood. She thought about switching careers, possibly becoming a teacher or running a summer camp.

In 2017, Hoda adopted her first daughter, Haley Joy, and announced the joyful news on the “Today” show, sharing her happiness with her colleagues.

Less than ten days after bringing Haley home, Hoda had already settled into the routine of bottle feedings, diaper changes, and laundry in her Upper West Side penthouse. She found a new kind of love she had never felt before.

In 2019, she expanded her family by adopting another baby girl, Hope Catherine. Haley happily embraced her role as a big sister.

In March 2023, Hoda’s family faced a health scare when Hope had to stay in the hospital for a week, including a few days in the ICU.

Hoda took time off work to care for Hope, and after returning, she expressed deep gratitude that her daughter was recovering. She mentioned that the recovery would take time but remained optimistic.

Hoda shares her two daughters with her ex-fiancé, Joel Schiffman, to whom she was engaged from 2019 until 2022. As a single mom, she now lives with her daughters in a suburban home, moving from her New York City apartment in March 2024.

Source: Getty Images

Moving to the suburbs was a hard decision, as Hoda had lived in the same apartment since adopting her daughters. But she felt the move would give her children new experiences, like playing in a yard and riding bikes in a safer, quieter area.

Turning 60 made Hoda reflect on her life, particularly the lessons of motherhood. She shared that her daughters showed her that anything is possible and helped her realize she is “good enough,” flaws and all.

Her daughters also taught her to find humor in challenges and reminded her that she was always meant to be a mother. As she grew older, Hoda felt that her children now deserved more of her time, which played a big role in her decision to leave the “Today” show.

However, some reports suggest another reason for Hoda’s departure. Allegedly, she left her $20 million-plus per year deal after NBC offered her a pay cut.

A media executive noted that this is part of a trend in TV news, where many are facing pay cuts or job losses. Since the news broke, people online have been actively discussing Hoda’s decision.

One user commented, “She made her millions. Now it’s time to spend them.” Another said, “Hoda is worth 30 million dollars. I’d quit too.”

Others showed support, with one person writing, “Your kids will love having more of you. Enjoy your newfound freedom.”

Hoda Kotb’s journey has been filled with challenges and successes, but her love for her family has always been her priority. As she moves into a new chapter, she focuses on what matters most—her daughters and their life together.

I Let a Homeless Woman Stay in My Garage, but One Day, I Walked in Without Knocking & Was Stunned by What She Was Doing

When a wealthy, emotionally distant man offers shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he’s drawn to her resilience. Their unlikely bond begins to grow — until the day he walks into his garage unannounced and discovers something disturbing. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?

I had everything money could buy: a sprawling estate, luxury cars, and more wealth than I could ever spend in a lifetime. Yet, inside, there was a hollow I couldn’t fill.

I’d never had a family since women always seemed to want me only for the money I inherited from my parents. At sixty-one, I couldn’t help but wish I’d done something differently.

A lonely man | Source: Midjourney

A lonely man | Source: Midjourney

I tapped the steering wheel absently, trying to shake off the familiar weight on my chest. That’s when I saw a disheveled woman bent over a trash can.

I slowed the car, not sure why I even bothered. People like her were everywhere, weren’t they? But there was something about the way she moved, her thin arms digging through the garbage with a sort of grim determination that tugged at something inside me.

She looked fragile, yet fierce, like she was holding onto survival by sheer force of will.

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels

Before I realized what I was doing, I had pulled over. The engine hummed as I rolled down the window, watching her from the safety of my car.

She looked up, startled. Her eyes were wide, and for a moment, I thought she might run. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, brushing her hands on her faded jeans.

“Do you need some help?” I asked, my voice sounding strange even to my ears. It wasn’t like me to talk to strangers, let alone invite trouble into my world.

A man speaking through an open car window | Source: Pexels

A man speaking through an open car window | Source: Pexels

“You offering?” There was a sharpness to her voice, but also a kind of tiredness, like she’d heard every empty promise before.

“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out before I could think them through. I stepped out of the car. “I just saw you there and… well, it didn’t seem right.”

She crossed her arms over her chest; her gaze never leaving mine. “What’s not right is life.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And cheating, no-good husbands in particular. But you don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels

A homeless woman | Source: Pexels

I winced, even though I knew she was right.

“Maybe not.” I paused, unsure of how to continue. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto mine. “No.”

The word hung in the air between us. It was all I needed to hear.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“Look, I have a garage. Well, it’s more like a guest house. You could stay there until you get back on your feet.”

I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me to go to hell. But instead, she just blinked at me, the edges of her tough exterior starting to crack.

“I don’t take charity,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

“It’s not charity,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. “It’s just a place to stay. No strings attached.”

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Okay. Just for a night,” she replied. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”

The drive back to the estate was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around herself like a shield.

When we arrived, I led her to the garage-turned-guest-house. It was nothing fancy, but enough for someone to live in.

“You can stay here,” I said, gesturing toward the small space. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”

A cozy home interior | Source: Pexels

A cozy home interior | Source: Pexels

“Thanks,” she muttered.

Over the next few days, Lexi stayed in the garage but we saw each other for occasional meals. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her pulled at me.

Maybe it was how she seemed to keep going despite everything life had thrown at her, or perhaps the loneliness I saw in her eyes, mirroring my own. Maybe it was just the simple fact that I didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

One night, as we sat across from each other over dinner, she began to open up.

Dinner on the table | Source: Pexels

Dinner on the table | Source: Pexels

“I used to be an artist,” she said, her voice soft. “Well, I tried to be, anyway. I had a small gallery, a few shows… but it all fell apart.”

“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Life happened. My husband left me for some younger woman he got pregnant and kicked me out. My whole life unraveled after that.”

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry,” I muttered.

She shrugged. “It’s in the past.”

But I could tell it wasn’t, not really. The pain was still there, just beneath the surface. I knew that feeling all too well.

As the days passed, I found myself looking forward to our conversations.

A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney

A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney

Lexi had a sharp wit and a biting sense of humor that cut through the gloom of my empty estate. Slowly, the hollow space inside me seemed to shrink.

It all changed one afternoon. I had been rushing around, trying to find the air pump for the tires on one of my cars. I barged into the garage without knocking, expecting to grab it quickly and leave. But what I saw stopped me cold.

There, spread across the floor, were dozens of paintings. Of me.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

Or rather, grotesque versions of me. One painting showed me with chains around my neck, another with blood pouring from my eyes. In the corner, there was one of me lying in a casket.

I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This was how she saw me? After everything I’d done for her?

I backed out of the room before she noticed me, my heart pounding.

A woman painting | Source: Pexels

A woman painting | Source: Pexels

That night, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. Whenever I looked at Lexi, all I saw were those horrific portraits.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lexi,” I said, my voice tight. “What the hell are those paintings?”

Her fork clattered to the plate. “What are you talking about?”

A fork on a plate | Source: Pexels

A fork on a plate | Source: Pexels

“I saw them,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “The paintings of me. The chains, the blood, the coffin. What the hell is that?”

Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see those,” she stammered.

“Well, I did,” I said coldly. “Is that how you see me? As some monster?”

“No, it’s not that.” She wiped at her eyes, her voice shaky. “I was just… angry. I’ve lost everything, and you have so much. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t help it. I needed to let it out.”

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

“So you painted me like a villain?” I asked, my voice sharp.

She nodded, shame etched into her features. “I’m sorry.”

I sat back, letting the silence stretch between us. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to understand. But I couldn’t.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said, my voice flat.

A man running his hands through his hair | Source: Midjourney

A man running his hands through his hair | Source: Midjourney

Lexi’s eyes widened. “Wait, please—”

“No,” I interrupted. “It’s over. You need to leave.”

The next morning, I helped her pack her belongings and drove her to a nearby shelter. She didn’t say much, and neither did I. Before she stepped out of the car, I handed her a few hundred dollars.

She hesitated but then took the money with trembling hands.

Dollar bills | Source: Pexels

Dollar bills | Source: Pexels

Weeks passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. Not just because of the disturbing paintings, but because of what we’d had before. There had been warmth and connection — something I hadn’t felt in years.

Then, one day, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a painting, but this one was different. It wasn’t grotesque or twisted. It was a serene portrait of me, captured with a peace I hadn’t known I possessed.

Tucked inside the package was a note with Lexi’s name and phone number scrawled at the bottom.

A man holding a note | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a note | Source: Midjourney

My finger hovered over the call button, my heart beating faster than it had in years. Getting worked up over a phone call felt ridiculous, but there was so much more riding on it than I wanted to admit.

I swallowed hard and hit “Call” before I could second-guess myself again. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant like she somehow sensed it could only be me.

A man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I cleared my throat. “Lexi. It’s me. I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it. I figured I owed you something better than… well, those other paintings.”

“You didn’t owe me anything, Lexi. I wasn’t exactly fair to you, either.”

“You had every right to be upset.” Her voice was steadier now. “What I painted — those were things I needed to get out of me, but they weren’t about you, really. You were just… there. I’m sorry.”

A man taking a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A man taking a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t need to apologize, Lexi. I forgave you the moment I saw that painting.”

Her breath hitched. “You did?”

“I did,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t just the painting that had changed my mind, it was the gnawing feeling that I had let something meaningful slip through my fingers because I was too afraid to face my pain. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”

A smiling man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe we could talk. Maybe over dinner? If you’d like.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that.”

We made arrangements to meet in a few days. Lexi told me she’d used the money I gave her to buy new clothes and get a job. She was planning to move into an apartment when she received her first paycheck.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Lexi again.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: On his deathbed, my grandfather handed me a key to a secret storage unit, igniting a mystery that changed my life. When I finally opened the unit, I discovered a treasure trove that made me rich and gave me something far more precious — a window into the soul of a man who was my hero. 

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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