There's No Magic Bullet

Losing 45 pounds on Ozempic was just the beginning of a woman's journey to heal her traumatic relationship with food. She shares the milestones that really mattered.

- MICHELLE BRAFMAN

I've been on Ozempic for about a year and a half for my type 2 diabetes. My blood sugar levels are normal, and yes, I've lost weight. I started taking the drug before its wonder-weight-loss properties hit the news, before Jimmy Kimmel made an Ozempic joke minutes into hosting the Oscars, before thin women who wanted to be thinner began shooting their bellies with that familiar blue pen I use every Wednesday morning. This was also before my neighborhood pharmacy and local Safeway encountered supply issues.

Let's get the stats out of the way first. I've lost 45 pounds since I started taking Ozempic. I'm 5'11", and I've always joked that it takes a 35-pound weight loss for people to start noticing. Sadly, I can say this with authority because since my early 30s, I've lost and gained a total of 660 pounds. You read that number correctly.

The abridged narrative goes like this. Most of my life, I was a lean, athletic person even if I thought I wasn't. I gained a total of 110 pounds with my two pregnancies and joined Weight Watchers to drop 55 pounds after each, and then gained and lost another 40 twice after that. Myriad low-carb diets helped me knock off more 40-pound chunks until I'd eat a bagel, and then another, and another. Perhaps this is why I'm not doing any cartwheels over the latest "drop," my late mother's term for a big weight loss, as opposed to "the last hurrah," the treat she ate before starting a new diet. My last hurrahs can last years.

I used to love it when people commented on a new me. Now I hate it. "How did you do it?" they ask. I don't want to fuel the Ozempic craze. I don't want to dangle a magic bullet in front of anyone who buys into the Hollywood-ness of yet another diet trick, who is struggling to understand that wellness, wholeness, is an inside job. This chapter of my story is real and hopeful. So I'm sharing it instead.