My “Parts” and their reactions to the recent weight loss drug obsession…

Last week, a friend and former client messaged me with a link to a recent article on Ozempic (the new “rich people’s weight loss drug,” originally manufactured for diabetes blood sugar management). I’d been avoiding the hype but I read this article in full and decided to write a Wednesday Weekly about it.

In preparation, I went down the rabbit hole of research (a known trigger for me), and it has predictably impacted my mental health to the degree that you are reading this a week late because I kept procrastinating writing it.

I have decided to write it from the point of view of me-as-a-human instead of me-as-a-journalist-wannabe.

(Besides, actual journalist Virginia Sole-Smith came out with another brilliant take on the subject last week in her Substack subscription, so no need to reinvent the wheel. I also liked this one by Nicole Wetsman, which articulates so many points I would also venture to make.)

For anyone not familiar with Internal Family Systems (IFS), there is an approach to psychology that explores how we exist in Parts rather than as just as one single Being.

This means that we might have many different opinions, some of which conflict and compete with one another, based on the various experiences in life that have made us complex humans.

(There is much more to this framework, but I am simplifying it for purposes of this blog).

The Ozempic conversation started rallying several different “Parts” for me, and I’m laying them out here.

I have been very hesitant to put this out into the world because, invariably, there will be some of you who disagree with some of my Parts. I hope you’ll keep an open mind and read this with the understanding that we allhave Parts that our logic doesn’t necessarily agree with, and internal reconciliation involves recognizing all of our Parts.

The Angry at Thin People Part.

To be clear, it’s the “Angry-at-Thin-People, mostly-Rich, who-are-taking-advantage-of-this-drug-when-they-already-have-a-lot-of-privilege-and-are-just-widening-the-gap-Part.” It’s the part of me that is disgusted at the lengths we will go to to be smaller instead of saying NO to a culture that is making it nearly impossible to exist without shame in our God-given bodies. The Ozempic trend started with celebrities, who are generally much smaller than the average women and set standards for what women believe we should look like — this feels incredibly irresponsible. This is making women who already feel not-good-enough feel even worse, as standards keep getting higher. How is everyone supposed to keep up? And of course, when you have money, it’s easier - the lifetime cost of this drug is exorbitant. This drug is enabling the privileged to become more privileged.

The Compassionate Part.

Anyone who is already thin and feeling like they need to be thinner is likely not living with a vanity issue. I know this, I coach this. This is more evidence of the never-ending goose chase of body image. It is perhaps more sad than anything. And for those who are not already thin, see “the advocate part.”

The Advocate Part.

My thoughts immediately lean toward the thin people taking this drug, but what about people in larger bodies who feel like there might finally be an easier answer? I have heard from several followers who have been trying to stop binge eating for years and this drug is the first sense of freedom they have. Can anyone be blamed for using this option when the world is so set up against them? Deconstructing diet culture takes years of work. Does this medication provide a short cut? Some people think so — and I have to lend my ear to that experience.

The Fuck No Part.

When I was in my 20’s, I watched Desperate Housewives and learned about another drug women were taking to lose weight (a stimulant that was otherwise used for ADHD). Guess what I did? I got myself a prescription. It was so easy. For a while, it worked. My appetite was transformed. It was the first time in my life that I felt “normal” with food — I wasn’t thinking of it all the time, I wasn’t hungry all the time, I had brain space for other things. My heart raced a lot and my anxiety skyrocketed, but I didn’t care. I lost weight.

Until my body habituated to it, and I increased the dose.

You know the rest.

It ultimately stopped working, and I still wonder about the damage I might have done to my heart.

I have read similar accounts of people taking this drug — the sudden disinterest in food, the feeling of freedom, the ease. And I can’t help but wonder, is this the same story?

A member of our graduate subscription group spoke last week about her parents, now in their 70’s, who were just beginning to reconcile their relationship with food after using many other “bandaids” through the decades to cover it up. She remarked: “it validates that you can’t bypass the work in this. It comes back to haunt you. You can cover it up, but if you have a disorder, you have to uproot the disorder.”

So fuck no. I am straight-sized and I will not risk my health nor my authentic beliefs in what recovery means in order to lose the weight that I have finally made peace with. I am not someone who needs to take this drug, and even if it would afford me greater privilege to be smaller, I stand firm in my NO.

The Threatened Part.

Do I have to do this now? Is this going to become the new normal? Are people just going to start getting smaller and smaller? (I feel the same way about Botox and anti-aging procedures; it seems to be a new normal in social circles. Still holding strong against that, but when does it end??) Will I still be accepted if I don’t do it?

The Dejected Part.

I have been so empowered by body neutrality; so encouraged by brands that are including diverse models and expanding sizing options. I’m invigorated by the body acceptance community itself, that social media is a hub for growing the option of rejecting diet culture and embracing who we are without the food police. Will medications like this render this movement useless? Is our culture really beyond repair?

The Zoomed Out & Regulated Part.

I don’t care. I let it pass by. I don’t need to participate in the discussion or the frenzy. This is not part of my story. I feel safe not thinking about it any longer. Life is so much more than this.

*This is the part I am most in touch with at the moment. Writing these through has helped validate and organize them for me, and I feel more free to leave the conversation alone now.

These are my multitudes. I suspect there are more, but I’m wondering if you can relate to some of them.