In an era where weight loss is no longer just a goal but a trend, the rise of Ozempic and similar medications has reshaped how teenagers, especially girls, see their bodies. Scrolling through TikTok or sitting through a commercial break, it’s hard to miss: a slim figure with a “picture-perfect body”.
While Ozempic and Wegovy are not doing the work for everyone, it is allowing people to lose enough weight to wonder: why am I not losing weight as well?
Ozempic, originally developed as a diabetes medication, and its cousin Wegovy, approved by the FDA in December 2022 for teens with obesity, are GLP-1 receptor agonists that suppress appetite and slow digestion. On paper, they help people struggling with Diabetes; now, they are being used, and in some ways, abused, by non-diabetics.
This pattern pushes forward a standard of body dysmorphia, eating disorders, and unreachable standards, especially in young communities.
According to National Geographic, the number of teens and young adults taking GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic rose by 594% between 2020 and 2023. That number isn’t just a statistic—it’s a red flag. Young people are turning to these drugs not because their lives (or their condition) depend on it, but because their self-worth feels like it does.
Social media platforms are unintentional breeding grounds for an obsession with weight loss.
While it may not be immediately obvious, the widespread collection of influencers who embody model-like beauty standards, such as flat stomachs and tiny waists, subtly reinforces the idea that this appearance is the norm. As a result, the inability to conform to this standard can leave individuals feeling inadequate or as though their bodies are inherently flawed.
The message is subtle but frequent: if you’re not losing weight, you’re the outlier.
Celebrities, too, have added fuel to the fire. Khloe Kardashian, among others, voiced their support for Ozempic use even among people who aren’t considered “overweight” by medical standards. This sends a warped message—thin isn’t enough. You can always be thinner. With the burgeoning normalization of drugs like Ozempic, it is easy for girls to feel like they need to be doing something to lose weight.
This can be very dangerous when girls start finding other unhealthy ways to cope with their need to lose weight.
Many girls can’t get Ozempic, even if they want to. Whether it’s due to cost, lack of prescription access, or hesitancy from dealers, the drug remains out of reach. And that is part of the problem. Girls start comparing themselves to others who are on the drug and feel frustrated when they can’t achieve the same results naturally. This can, more often than not, lead to disordered eating habits like anorexia.
Others develop a warped sense of what their body “should” look like, becoming completely unaware of what a typical body looks like.
With the rise of normalization of these drugs, we are watching body positivity take a step back, and emphasizing unrealistic beauty standards similar to the ones from the early 2000s. Thigh gaps, flat stomachs, and skeletal collarbones are creeping back into trend cycles. And girls are once again tying their value to a number on the scale.
Here’s the other issue: the casual popularity of Ozempic is reducing access for those who genuinely need it. Type 2 diabetes patients are facing shortages, and teenagers with medically diagnosed obesity are struggling to get prescriptions because the drug is being over-prescribed for cosmetic purposes.
According to Chris Morris, with Fortune Well, the drug price increased 3.5% at the beginning of the year, which brought the price for these drugs up to around $970 a month.
The out-of-pocket prescription fee for these medications is creating a barrier that enables only wealthy communities to access these resources.
But there’s another side to this conversation that often gets overlooked—how it impacts boys. While girls bear the brunt of body image scrutiny, boys are increasingly falling into similar traps.
The lean, hyper-masculine body type is now glamorized on the same apps that glorify the “model-thin” look for girls. Ozempic isn’t marketed toward them in the same way, but the message still gets through: your body could be better.
This silence only deepens the stigma for boys struggling with self-worth, who now associate their value with how their bodies look.
What makes all of this more concerning is how casually it’s all being talked about.
Ozempic jokes trend on TikTok; weight loss “hacks” go viral on Instagram; Nikki Glaser jokes about “Ozempic’s biggest event of the year” being the Golden Globes.
The entire conversation around these drugs has been glorified—filtered through before-and-after reels and comments that praise transformation but ignore mental health.
What we’re seeing is a normalization of medical solutions to what is often a societal issue. Instead of asking why young people feel so uncomfortable in their bodies, we’re prescribing them ways to shrink themselves.
That’s not a cure—it’s a band-aid. And if no one is talking about it, the cycle will just keep repeating.
In a culture that prizes thinness over wellness, we’re teaching young girls to hate their bodies again.
We’re teaching them that appetite is shameful, that food must be earned, that beauty is a drug you can inject.
What is unfortunately behind all the glamorized results is a generation of girls losing touch with their bodies.
The obsession with Ozempic isn’t just about weight—it’s about feeling accepted, pretty, and the need to belong.
Without the means to censor this content, the drug has become a shortcut to validation. Others will finally see you how you want to be seen, but what are you sacrificing of yourself?
If we want a future where girls are proud of their bodies, we need to strongly look at our way of normalizing skinny standards.
We need to change what’s “normal” in our homes, our media, and our expectations.
There’s nothing healthy about a world that makes girls feel they need a prescription to be enough.
