In the summer of 2022, I made the decision to try Ozempic, a medication known for its weight loss benefits. At that time, I was among the early adopters of this drug, long before it became a household name amid a media frenzy surrounding GLP-1 agonists. Even my own physician expressed surprise at my request to use it for weight loss, telling me, "I haven't really prescribed them for weight loss much. Have you considered Noom? Or meals from HelloFresh?" Despite her reservations, I was determined to explore this option.

As a primary care physician, I had kept myself informed about the scientific literature indicating that GLP-1 agonists like Ozempic could be prescribed specifically for weight management. However, my journey with the drug was short-lived. Within months, I found myself discontinuing its use due to a series of unpleasant side effects, including nausea, heartburn, and disrupted sleep. Ultimately, the physical discomfort outweighed the benefits I hoped to achieve.

It appears I was not alone in my struggle to maintain a regimen of Ozempic and other similar medications. Recent studies have revealed that a significant number of individuals who begin using GLP-1 agonists for weight loss ultimately stop taking them. While Ozempic is officially approved for the treatment of Type 2 diabetes, it is often prescribed off-label for weight management.

Reflecting on my experience, I realized that my journey to achieve a healthier self had become entangled with societal pressures to lose weight. After giving birth just a year prior, I, like many women, had gained weight during my pregnancy and felt compelled to shed those extra pounds to reclaim my health.

Initially, my doctor's guidance was soundrecommending a diet rich in vegetables and regular exercise. Yet, these common suggestions felt unoriginal, and I had doled them out to my own patients countless times with limited success. Eventually, my physician prescribed Ozempic, and with optimism, I administered my first injection, believing it would be the key to feeling healthier.

However, as I soon discovered, the experience was far from what I had envisioned. In an attempt to reestablish a fitness routine with a newborn at home, I was desperately seeking energy, but Ozempic only left me feeling increasingly unwell. The first sign of trouble manifested as heartburn, which rapidly escalated to debilitating nausea. At a friend's wedding that summer, I toasted the couple with champagne only to find myself in the restroom, battling waves of nausea throughout the reception. Exercise became an afterthought, and sleep eluded me due to persistent abdominal pain.

In essence, I felt anything but healthy. As a physician, I recognized the ironyI was not adhering to my own medical advice. I didn't formally discuss my decision to stop the medication with my doctor, a classic lapse in judgment among healthcare providers who often neglect their own health.

Research confirms that my situation is far from unique; a study published earlier this year in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) found that nearly 65% of individuals who began taking GLP-1 drugs for weight loss discontinued them within a year. Although the reasons for discontinuation varied, significant side effects appeared to be a common factor. Additionally, individuals with lower income levels were more susceptible to quitting, likely due to the rising costs and lack of insurance coverage for these expensive medications.

Interestingly, those who experienced notable weight loss were also more inclined to stop taking the drugs. This raises a thought-provoking question: could it be that some individuals, like myself, felt healthier without the medication?

Upon discontinuing Ozempic, I gradually noticed improvements in my well-being. I re-engaged with exercise, taking my son in a jogging stroller and hiking with my family during weekends. I found that my stomach settled, allowing me to sleep more soundly, and I began to enjoy food without the burden of guilt.

While I didn't lose weight in the traditional sense, my blood pressure and glucose levels remained stable, and I felt more vibrant and alive. It became clear that health could exist independently of a body mass index (BMI) of 25 or lower.

Despite my positive experience, many of my fellow physicians remain focused on weight as the primary indicator of health. The authors of the JAMA study emphasized that efforts are needed to improve access and adherence to GLP-1 medications, operating under the assumption that the ultimate goal is to keep patients on these drugs.

I am not opposed to Ozempic; on the contrary, I prescribe GLP-1s to many of my patients, and several report significant improvements in their health metrics, including blood glucose control and kidney function. However, a narrow perspective fixated on weight overlooks the multifaceted nature of wellness. For me, ceasing Ozempic resulted in a healthier lifestyle characterized by regular exercise, improved sleep quality, and reduced discomfort.

Many of my patients echo similar sentiments. One woman conveyed that her relationship with food was more important than shedding a few pounds. Another patient remarked, "Being skinny isn't worth feeling sick every day." These reflections highlight a critical concern: in an era dominated by Ozempic, the medical community risks reverting to an outdated mindset that equates weight with health.

Instead of concentrating solely on BMI, which the American Medical Association has criticized for its inadequacy in assessing an individual's health, we should embrace a more comprehensive view of health. The recent discourse surrounding high discontinuation rates of GLP-1 medications raises alarm bells about policy implications, especially if weight loss is not sustained post-discontinuation.

In contrast to the growing emphasis on weight, leading medical organizations are slowly acknowledging that cardiovascular fitness may serve as a more reliable predictor of health outcomes. As I guide my patients through the complexities of these medications, I consistently return to the principle of bodily autonomy. The definition of health is inherently personal and varies from one individual to another. Ultimately, my patients must determine what it means to be well, whether or not they choose to incorporate a GLP-1 medication into their journey.

Mara Gordon is a family physician practicing in Camden, New Jersey, and a contributor to NPR. She writes the Substack newsletter "Chief Complaint."