Opinion | When the Weight Watchers start watching you
Collage by Easton Clark, Photo Editor
I am so sick of seeing weight loss drug commercials.
Picture this: you’re me, simply trying to watch my comfort show at the end of a long day. Lately, that’s been “Bridgerton,” “Modern Family” or “The Traitors.” But no matter what show I put on, I get the same commercial breaks — GLP-1 ads.
Glucagon-like peptide 1, semaglutide or GLP-1 for short, is a “multifaceted hormone with broad pharmacological potential,” according to the National Institutes of Health (NIH). This hormone serves as a metabolic stimulator; it regulates blood sugar, suppresses appetite and slows the emptying of the stomach, prolonging the feeling of fullness. These are the reasons why the drug was originally created and marketed to treat obesity and diabetes.
Not many people are aware that another purpose of the drug is to treat neurodegenerative disorders, and clinical trials are currently in progress to test its effects on patients with Alzheimer's and Parkinson’s diseases.
But that’s not the GLP-1 I’m talking about.
The ones I’m talking about are the commercialized semaglutide brands that gained mass attention online, and now on our television screens.
My first impression of Ro came about when I was watching “The Traitors” just a few weeks ago. I was shocked — and honestly, a little disappointed — to see tennis superstar Serena Williams on the forefront of Ro’s campaign, saying how, yes, even she uses weight loss medication. The ad even played during Super Bowl LX, America’s biggest day for sports (and commercials).
In an interview with Elle, Williams defended her use of the drug, saying “It also gave me something that my body may have been just missing.” As much as I support a woman finding peace and happiness within herself and her body, I hate the idea that she has to go on weight loss drugs to do so. I don’t blame Williams or any other women on GLP-1 drugs — I blame a society that values the appearance of women over their skills, their accomplishments and their aspirations.
As much as I tried to understand Williams’ perspective, the commercial left a pit in my stomach. Female athletes set examples for young women like myself used to follow, examples that contrast celebrities and influencers, who are constantly reminding us of impossible beauty standards.
I remember growing up and hearing that weight wasn’t everything, seeing models that represent most body types and hearing songs that spoke proudly about the curvature of a female physique. I remember just two years ago when Ilona Maher played for the U.S. rugby team at the 2024 Summer Olympics, and how her whirlwind rise to fame seemed to signal a new era for women.
The sounds of these counter-societal messages have quieted; all I hear now are the countless anecdotes of miraculous weight loss journeys.
Is all that change gone, a thing of the past? Was the hard work put in by the millennial generation of women all for nothing?
We now live in an era where GLP-1 ads play during nearly every break. There was a time when the jingle we all could recite was “the snack that smiles back,” and now we’re haunted by the sound of “Oh, oh, oh, Ozempic!” Weight loss drugs are so normalized that they’re no longer a secret key held by movie stars and singers, they’re used casually by those around you to combat the “freshman 15.” Even Forbes Health published an article listing the “Best GLP-1 Medications of 2026.”
While I wish I could say this is an issue that affects all genders equally, research shows that women are the key targets for this “quick fix solution.”
The NIH stated in a detailed report on the matter, “The growing global interest in semaglutide, fueled by media campaigns, influencers and social media platforms, has turned the drug into a true social phenomenon, especially among women.”
The NIH’s response is to increase education and to reduce both self-medication and abuse of semaglutide.
My response? Stop advertising these drugs to regular, working-class people and sending subliminal messages to the unsuspecting viewer.
To continue supporting the ethical usage of GLP-1 and to stop this “social phenomenon,” our first move would have to be taking it off of our screens, and directing people to health professionals.
Another report by NIH stated that women using the drug for weight loss are more inclined to experience negative side effects, such as nausea and diarrhea. Why don’t we show the people this reality, rather than the tales of our favorite famous faces and their semaglutide fairy godmother? When the clock strikes midnight and the pumpkin rots, what are the effects of this “magic” solution?
The problem isn’t Serena Williams. It isn’t the influencers you watch or the girl in your hall who lost a bunch of weight. It’s the fact that even after a decades-long wave of body positivity that makes you think we’re in the clear, we never know what new trend will arise to remind us that, to society, our bodies matter more than what’s inside. The only thing we can do is hold on and ride this one out — again.
