I Started Taking Ozempic to Prove a Point...

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been told I eat too much. I’ve been called lazy, indulgent, self-destructive. But here’s the truth: I never had a big appetite. I never craved sweets. I never turned to junk food. I was active. I liked to move. And yet, I’ve carried extra weight since childhood. It’s been a mystery I’ve carried silently for decades.

The Beginning

When I was a kid, I was bigger than most of the other kids in my class. But I didn’t hate myself. I just didn’t understand why. I wasn’t into sugar, soda, or pastries. I didn’t eat fast food. My family wasn’t particularly overweight. I just was.

I was athletic, too. I went to the gym after school. I played sports. I loved being outside, running, jumping, climbing. And still, I didn’t lose the weight. Not even a little.

Then, in 2017, something changed. For the first time in my life, I started losing weight—30 kilograms in five months. I didn’t change what I ate. I didn’t stop eating. I just started being stricter with meal times, drank more water, and pushed myself harder at the gym.

It was like my body had been holding onto something it didn’t need. And once I gave it a rhythm, it let it go. I felt strong. I felt like I was finally in control.

What I Discovered

After that, I got custom shoe inserts. I started jogging. I loved it. I felt free. I was doing everything right. I stayed active. I kept my routines. And then… slowly, the weight started coming back.

It was around 2020 or 2021 when I noticed it. I hadn’t changed my habits. I hadn’t overeaten. I was still eating the same way, exercising the same way. But I was gaining weight. No matter what I did.

Then in 2023, I had a back injury. A nerve issue. I had to stop running. I stopped being active. I started eating less. I was eating fewer calories than I used to, but I wasn’t losing weight. I was gaining it.

My body wasn’t burning calories. It was hoarding them. I started to feel sick. I had low energy. I felt foggy. I was exhausted. And doctors kept telling me to eat less. To exercise more. But I was already doing both.

Diagnosis: Starvation Symptoms Despite Being Overweight

At the end of 2023, I was diagnosed with an unspecified eating disorder. The words that stood out to me were,

“Starvation symptoms despite being overweight.”

That’s when it hit me: my body wasn’t rejecting food. It was begging for it. My bloodwork showed multiple deficiencies. I was low in iron, B12, vitamin D. I had low potassium. My liver enzymes were off.

I was starving. Not in the way people think—empty stomach, hunger pangs—but in the way your body screams for fuel when it’s been denied energy for too long.

So I started treatment. I went to a clinic. I had therapy. I worked with a dietitian. But then I had to stop. The cost. The weekly bus rides. It was too much. And the fact that I was gaining weight during treatment… it made me feel like no one believed me.

The Confrontation

Now, two years later, I’m active again. I can’t jog. I can’t run for more than a few minutes. But I walk almost every day. I’ve started to feel better. I have more energy. But the weight? It’s still there.

And doctors keep offering me Ozempic. Again. And again. As if it’s the magic bullet. But I refused. Because I know it won’t work.

I tried a similar medication—Victoza—back in 2021. I took it for six months. I didn’t lose a single kilogram. In fact, I gained three. And my stomach turned violently. Nausea, cramps, diarrhea. It was brutal.

But that’s not even the worst part. The medication made my depression worse. When I stopped, I gained weight even faster. And the worst thing? It triggered thoughts I never wanted to have. I started feeling like I didn’t want to be here.

So I stopped. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not for a drug I didn’t think would help anyway.

But here’s the thing: my problem isn’t overeating. It’s not lack of willpower. It’s not a diet issue. My issue is that my body doesn’t process food the way it should. It’s been built to survive on little. To store everything. And when I tried to force it to burn more, it fought back.

Now, I have proof. I have bloodwork. I have a diagnosis. I have my own history. I know I don’t eat too much. I know I’m not lazy. But doctors keep saying I need to “eat less” or “exercise more.”

So I decided to take Ozempic anyway. Not to lose weight. Not to be thinner. But to prove a point. To show them that if I’m taking a drug that suppresses my appetite… and I’m still not losing weight… then the problem isn’t that I eat too much. It’s that my body is broken.

I’m taking it not to change my body—but to change the way people see it. To force them to listen. To see that some of us are struggling not because of our choices, but because our biology doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.

Looking Back

Looking back now, I realize how much I’ve fought to be believed. How many times I’ve been told I just need to try harder. How many times I’ve been made to feel guilty for not losing weight.

But I don’t want to be “fixed.” I want to be understood. I want to be seen. I want to be heard.

And maybe, just maybe, by taking a drug I don’t think will work—just to prove that I don’t overeat—I can finally make someone stop and think.

Because the truth is, I’ve never been a glutton. I’ve never been a slacker. I’ve just been a person with a body that doesn’t burn calories like everyone else’s.

And if that’s not enough to make doctors take me seriously… then I don’t know what is.