Ozempic is all the buzz, yet people using it rarely share their experiences. Let’s dive into the conversation!
Ozempic has become one of the most talked-about drugs across social media in beauty and fitness circles. It has inspired conversations from hushed whispers to heated debates. Celebrities and influencers have shown dramatic transformations, with many speculating that Ozempic played a major role. But beyond the viral stories and speculation, what is it like to really use Ozempic? I spoke to women who had firsthand experience. Three women, who we’ll call Nina, Tasha and Lola (for anonymity’s sake), shared their honest experiences with Ozempic.
Nina, 34 – The corporate high-flyer who wanted control
Why she did it:
Nina, a marketing professional, knows that in her industry, image is everything. “I’ve struggled with my weight for years. I eat healthy, I exercise, but my body just wouldn’t budge,” she shared. When she started hearing hushed whispers about Ozempic in her own circles, and not just from celebrities, she was intrigued. “It wasn’t just celebrities—people I knew, women like me, were on it. I didn’t want to be left behind.”
Her experience:
“At first, it felt like magic,” she admitted. “I wasn’t hungry; I lost weight effortlessly, and for the first time, I felt in control of my body.” But the honeymoon phase was short-lived. “The nausea was brutal. Some days, I could barely get out of bed. And then there was my face—people started asking if I was sick. That ‘Ozempic face’(the hollow, saggy look some people get after using Ozempic because the drug burns fat fast, including in the face, making it look sunken or aged)
Why she wants to keep it private:
Nobody outside Nina’s close circle knows. “There’s this stigma around it, like you’re cheating. But is there really any difference between this and any other weight loss method? Still, I don’t want people at work assuming I took the ‘easy’ way out.”
Hearing Nina say this made me question why there is so much stigma attached to Ozempic. People celebrate weight loss yet judge the method. But as I thought more, I realised the stigma is not just about taking a shortcut. Ozempic is a drug meant for diabetics, and its rising popularity among non-diabetics has led to shortages and increased costs for those who actually need it. If diet and exercise don’t work, why is seeking medical help seen as a cop out? The more I listened, the clearer it became: losing weight is never just about the scale. It’s about validation and acceptance, especially the pressure to meet the ever-changing beauty standards .
Tasha, 29 – The content creator who sought rapid transformation
Why she did it:
As a content creator, her appearance directly impacted her career. “I kept losing major campaigns because of how I looked, and I knew I had to do something,” she shared. “I didn’t have the luxury of time for intense workouts or strict diets. Ozempic felt like the fastest way to get results.” But getting Ozempic wasn’t easy. “It’s not like you can just walk into a pharmacy and buy it. I had to pull some strings, and got it from an online retailer and it wasn’t cheap.”
Her experience:
“It worked. I dropped weight fast, and the results were obvious. But then I stopped, and everything changed.” The moment she stopped taking the drug, the weight returned twice as fast. “It messed with my head. I forgot what hunger felt like. When I started eating normally again, I couldn’t tell if I was actually hungry or just craving food.” The psychological shift was more difficult than the weight gain itself. “I felt like my body was punishing me for quitting.”
Why she wants to keep it private:
In the creative industry, especially as an influencer, authenticity is everything. “I promote self-love, confidence, and embracing your body. Imagine if people found out I took Ozempic? It would ruin my brand.”
This stuck with me. Tasha built her brand on confidence and self-acceptance, yet behind the scenes, she turned to Ozempic to conform to the very beauty standards she urged her followers to reject. It made me wonder: was this just the reality of surviving in an industry that punishes women for not fitting the standards? The ethical dilemma is impossible to ignore. How many influencers are quietly doing the same while preaching self-love? And what does that mean for the people who trust them?
Lola, 40 – The mum who jumped on the trend
Why she did it:
She’s a mother of two who had no intention of using Ozempic—until she bowed to the pressure because everyone around her was. “Friends, gym mums, even my sister. It felt like I was the only one not in on the secret,” she wrote. “I told myself it was just an experiment.”
Her experience:
“I lost a few kilos, but my digestion was a mess. I’d feel fine one day, then sick the next. It was unpredictable.” What hit her hardest wasn’t the physical effects but the weight of social pressure. “People assume if you take Ozempic (for weight loss), you’re lazy. That you couldn’t be bothered to ‘work’ for it. But the same people who judge you for using it are the ones who praise your weight loss without asking how you did it.”
Why she wants to keep it private:
Lola eventually stopped taking Ozempic, opting for slower, more sustainable lifestyle changes. She focuses on portion control, strength training, and prioritising whole, nutrient-dense foods. But she doesn’t talk about it openly. “I don’t want people’s opinions. If I say I took Ozempic, they’ll judge. If I say I stopped, they’ll have something to say about that too.”
Lola’s words made one thing clear: women can never truly win. When you lose weight, everyone wants to know your secret. If you mention Ozempic, you face criticism for taking a shortcut. If you stop using it, you’re called a failure. The scrutiny is relentless at every corner.
I have seen this pressure first-hand with my sister’s post-baby weight journey, and for mothers, it is worse. Society glorifies snapback culture as we expect women to shrink back to their pre-pregnancy bodies as if carrying and birthing a child never happened. But losing weight after childbirth is harder than most people realise. Society praises the mothers who “bounce back” while side-eyeing those struggling, bombarding them with unsolicited advice. It is no wonder so many women turn to drastic measures in secret.
Is Ozempic a quick fix or a dangerous cycle?
For all three women, Ozempic wasn’t just about weight loss, it was about control, expectations, and pressure. The appeal is obvious: an effortless way to lose weight without tedious workout routines or restrictive diets. However, the reality is far more complicated, with harsh side effects, rebound weight gain, and an altered relationship with food, amongst others. According to a study published in The New England Journal of Medicine, participants who stopped taking Ozempic regained, on average, two-thirds of the weight they had lost within a year. This raises concerns about the drug’s long-term sustainability and whether it truly offers a lasting solution for weight management. None of these consequences are in the fine print.
It is clear that Ozempic isn’t just another diet trend; it holds a mirror to society’s ever-shifting body standards and obsession with quick fixes. The women who take it aren’t lazy or weak, they are simply trying to navigate a world that constantly demands a thinner, faster, “better-looking” body.
Ozempic is more than a weight-loss drug; it reflects f people’s relentless pursuit of an unrealistic ideal. For some, it’s life-changing; for others, it’s a cautionary tale of the consequences of quick fixes. But beyond the visible transformations and social media buzz, the conversation is far from over. We probably haven’t scratched the surface of the Ozempic pandemic.
