I Love My GLP-1. Does That Make Me a Bad Feminist?

“They look unrecognizable.” Not for the first time, my friends and I were having a conversation about GLP-1s, a type of medication that has become widely used for weight loss. As we sat getting ready for my friend’s wedding, the general consensus seemed to be that the drug was being overprescribed and was not a long-term solution for losing weight and keeping it off.

I nodded along politely with the conversation, but I kept my real thoughts to myself. You see, I was just a month or two postpartum from the birth of my son, living in a body I didn’t recognize after having two kids over the course of three years. While I hadn’t started a GLP-1 at the time, it wasn’t an idea I was necessarily opposed to, not as much as the others in the room. But my friends’ general consensus also wasn’t completely off base to me. For years, I’ve felt strongly that people should love the bodies they are in and shouldn’t change anything just for a number on a scale.

About a month after that, I actually did start on a GLP-1, with my doctor prescribing Wegovy to me after a long conversation about my body, my health, and my long-term goals. And here’s the truth: It has been a life changer for me. After years of struggling with lethargy, food noise, and feeling like my body wasn’t my own, my physical and mental health both saw a massive change almost instantly.

But, while I should be happy, I can’t shake that nagging guilt that comes along with these changes. Does loving my GLP-1 make me a bad feminist?

Parenthood and the Introduction of “Food Noise”

Throughout my teens and into my mid-20s, weight was never something I focused much on. My metabolism did a pretty stand-up job of keeping my weight consistent, without much need for eating a certain way or exercising. Having kids completely changed that.

When I was pregnant with my daughter a few years back, I had my first experience with what I now know is called “food noise.” It felt like I was always insatiably hungry, thinking about food, or planning out a meal. The feeling intensified postpartum — only this time, I began being accompanied by overwhelming guilt every time I gave in to food cravings or overeating.

For years, this cycle continued, well into my daughter’s toddlerhood and throughout another pregnancy and postpartum period. I’d find myself persistently, insatiably hungry, then eat, then feel guilt. All of it combined did a number on not only my physical health (a constant feeling of being bloated, tired, and with zero energy) but my mental health as well. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t look at myself in a mirror. I found myself avoiding pictures, dreading seeing the person I felt like I no longer recognized.

My breaking point came at a doctor’s appointment shortly after giving birth to my son. For years, I had asked doctors not to read my weight out on the scale, preferring to face away and not know the number. On this day, however, the nurse (either not recognizing my request or ignoring it, frankly) read out the number... and I burst into tears.

The Relief of Starting a GLP-1

There was a long period there where I chalked all of this up to being postpartum and needing to accept a body that had been through two pregnancies and two C-sections. And while I do still believe that, I also recognized that my physical and mental health were both suffering from consistent food noise.

A few weeks after my breakdown in the doctor’s office, I spoke with my physician about the possibility of starting a GLP-1. We went through my bloodwork, my weight, and symptoms to determine whether she thought it was a good idea to move forward with it. After she agreed it was something that was worth trying (alongside a healthier lifestyle, importantly), she prescribed me the lowest dose to start.

Just a week in, I started feeling a difference. I still had an appetite, but I was no longer thinking about food constantly. It became easier to sit down without feeling the need to snack, and to stop eating when I felt full. I began to feel more energy, and didn’t feel as lethargic getting up each morning.

I’ve now been on the lowest dose for three months, and I can honestly say what I feel most is relief. Not from the weight on the scale, but from finally starting to feel more like I recognize the body I’m in, and that food and hunger are no longer a focal part of my day.

The Feminist Guilt That Followed

Of course, as a woman and a mother, it seems that nothing comes without some sort of guilt. In this case, some of my major guilt has been feeling a sense of feminist crisis, conflicting emotions flickering between relief, and also like I’m no longer adhering to body positivity.

What complicates that further is feeling like I’m letting my daughter down. I want her to love herself, no matter what shape or size. I want her to always feel beautiful and confident, and know that a number on a scale is the least interesting thing about her. And it’s difficult to reconcile that with the reality that I’m over here using a weight loss drug.

The truth is, I think the reality lives somewhere in the gray. Both things can be true: My life can have been hugely benefited by the help of a GLP-1, but it doesn’t mean I don’t believe wholeheartedly that you should love the body you’re in. My goal isn’t to go back to how I looked pre-pregnancy, or to hit a certain number on the scale. My goal is to feel healthier and bring myself to a place where I could make healthy lifestyle changes that would far outlast the use of a drug.

As for my daughter, I’m trying to figure out how best to exemplify body positivity, especially at her young age. What that looks like for us is speaking kindly about ourselves and others, and avoiding ever using the word “weight” around her. While this may be something I needed to do for myself, I don’t want it to create any correlation between weight and beauty in her mind.

At the end of the day, I can believe in body positivity and appreciate a medication that made my life easier. I can teach my daughter to love her body and take care of my own. Honestly, I don’t know if it makes me a bad feminist — but I do know that I’m in a better mental and physical place than I have been in a long time, and for that I’m grateful.

Morgan Flaherty is a contributing writer for Scary Mommy, where she has covered lifestyle pieces about topics such as beauty, travel, and parenting. When she’s not writing, Morgan is probably playing with new skincare and makeup, listening to a true crime podcast, or lamenting about how her babies are growing up too fast.