Standing Still in an Ozempic World: Healing in the Midst of Weight Loss Pressure
A reader asked me to "talk them off the GLP-1 ledge." This is about examining body autonomy, cultural pressure, and what it means to stay with yourself when the noise gets loud.
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The question:
Hi Abbie,
I don’t really know how to say this other than I feel completely overwhelmed. By everything. The country, the constant food and body talk, the feeling that weight loss is back in full force even when no one is saying it outright. It honestly feels like everyone is either on a GLP-1, thinking about one, or quietly planning to be.
What’s messing with me the most is seeing people I used to trust in anti-diet spaces now posting about their GLP-1 experience like it still fits under that umbrella. I can’t quite explain why, but it makes my stomach drop. It makes me feel like I missed a memo, or like I’m being naive for still caring about the harm of all of this.
The pressure has gotten so loud lately that I actually had a moment where I thought, “maybe I should just give up and do it too.” And that scared me. I’ve done so much work to heal my relationship with food and my body, and this feels like standing at the edge of something I swore I’d never go back to. I know the urge is probably coming from fear and exhaustion, not from what I truly want—but it’s still there.
So I guess this is me asking you to talk me off the ledge. I needed somewhere to put these thoughts, and I needed to hear from someone who isn’t pretending this moment is neutral or harmless. The messaging around Ozempic feels so loud and convincing, like it’s the obvious solution, and I feel like I’m losing my footing.
If you think other people might be feeling this too, maybe it’s worth naming. I just really needed a reminder of what actually matters right now.
Thank you for being a steady voice.
Disclaimer: Before I go any further, I want to name that this essay is a direct response to the reader who wrote to me above. My stance remains what it has always been: bodies are not public property, and personal medical decisions belong to the person living in them. I do not hold judgment about individual choices, and I never will. This piece is not an argument or a referendum on who’s doing things “right.” It’s written in service of the people who are hurting in the age of Ozempic—especially those who have already wrestled with the damage of diet culture and now feel that old pressure returning. That is who I’m speaking to here. If that’s you, you’re not alone, and you’re not failing for feeling this way. Okay, onward we go.
Over the past few weeks, versions of this message have been landing in my inbox again and again. And I’ve been hearing the same thing in my sessions with clients.
The reason I start there is because I need you to know that you are not alone. I see you, I hear you. And before we go any further, I want to widen the lens just a bit.
Because what tends to derail these conversations is when we stay focused the medications themselves, rather the world they’re landing in. A world that has spent years teaching us to distrust our own hunger, manage our weight, and perpetually “fix” our bodies.
So when something comes along promising relief, it doesn’t land neutrally. It lands in a body that’s been shaped by all of that.
That’s why there’s so much grief in what you’re describing. Grief that spaces that once felt like refuge now feel uncertain again. Grief that voices you trusted sound different. Grief that something you were building suddenly feels shakier than it did before.
When all of this is happening inside a massive cultural and marketing machine—one that has spent years teaching us that our bodies are problems to solve—of course it feels convincing. So you’re absolutely right that it can seem as if the strongest, loudest, most “influential” voices out there are framing these drugs as the magic bullet, without pausing to offer the kind of context that would actually make this feel like a fully informed choice.
Your body is yours, as is everyone else’s. Yet we’re all living inside a hierarchy of bodies that our society has created (a hierarchy that only holds power as long as we keep buying into it). We’re all contending with what that friction means—and perhaps that’s the push-and-pull you feel between your true values and the comparison trap.
Honestly? I’ve been sitting with this question for a few weeks now, because the last thing I want to do is try to convince anyone of anything. I needed to be with these words and think about what I do want to talk about.
Well, here’s where I’m starting—because this moment deserves more than a quick answer:
why this moment feels so intense—and why it makes sense,
how to move through the noise without losing yourself,
what’s underneath this very loud GLP-1 moment,
the promise (and complexity) of quieting hunger,
reminders to come back to when everything feels like too much,
the tension of watching anti-diet spaces shift,
and real-life reflections from people choosing not to ‘jump.’
So buckle up, because today’s piece is a bit longer than usual!
Can we talk about this “ledge” you mentioned, just for a hot second?
Because I know you want me to talk you off it, but I’m actually more stuck on