Amber Carter had battled with her weight for as long as she could remember. For decades, the 39-year-old from Clarkston, Michigan, had been caught in a frustrating cycle: eating a balanced diet, exercising regularly, yet the scale would barely budge. On top of that, she lived with constant “food noise” — intrusive, persistent thoughts about eating, and intense cravings.
“I would eat, and it would feel like I couldn’t get enough of it in me,” Carter says. “Even when my stomach was full, I wasn’t satisfied. I’d be thinking about bacon as I’m eating sausage. It was a frantic feeling. I’d think to myself, ‘I have to get more of this food inside of me.’”
Then, in 2022, something caught her attention: several colleagues at work who had also struggled with weight management began to slim down dramatically. “I just watched as they got smaller and smaller,” Carter recalls. “And I thought, ‘Wow, that’s crazy. I need whatever they’re doing.’”
Her coworkers were taking Mounjaro, an injectable medication originally designed for people with type 2 diabetes to help regulate blood sugar, with the added benefit of weight loss. Carter was intrigued. But there were two major roadblocks. First, she wasn’t diabetic, which meant she likely wouldn’t qualify for Mounjaro. Second, her primary care physician wasn’t supportive of prescribing weight-loss medication at all.
“She told me I didn’t need it and to just exercise more,” Carter recalls. “But I told her I was exercising, and it wasn’t working.”
Determined, she turned to the internet. After extensive research, she found a telehealth doctor willing to work with her. Carter was ecstatic, but what she didn’t anticipate was the bumpy road ahead, filled with side effects, trial-and-error, and hefty medical bills.
Her telehealth physician started her on a combination of weight-loss pills and the medications Wellbutrin and Naltrexone, which are occasionally used to reduce appetite and cravings. The regimen worked initially; she lost about 20 pounds, but after a year, her progress stalled. When she returned to her doctor, they switched her to Zepbound, a weekly self-injectable medication designed for adults who are overweight or obese.
The results came quickly, but so did side effects. “In the beginning, I felt fatigued, cold, and I had itching at the injection site,” she says. The symptoms were manageable, but the cost was not. At $600 a month, the medication began to feel like “a car note.” Eventually, she stopped renewing her prescription because she couldn’t afford it.
Carter switched to a compounded semaglutide, a less expensive, off-brand formula that uses the same active ingredients found in popular GLP-1 (glucagon-like peptide-1) and GIP (glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide) medications such as Zepbound, Ozempic, and Wegovy. These drugs mimic the body’s natural hormones that help control blood sugar and appetite. While name-brand versions are FDA-approved, some compounded versions are not.
The switch brought new challenges: digestive issues, nausea, and constipation. Still, Carter continued. Over a year and a half, she shed a whopping 72 pounds, dropping to 117 on the scale. At one point, she says, she lost too much weight — a fainting spell at work made her reconsider her dosage.
“I think as I was getting smaller, my dosage was staying the same, so proportionally, it was too much for my size,” she explains. She worked with her doctor to adjust the dose, which eased her side effects. Today, Carter says she’s happier and more confident. She’s even started sharing her journey on social media.
“These medications are changing the discussion of what weight is about and what obesity really is,” she says. “They need to be studied more because they’re helping people really live their lives.”
The rise of GLP-1 medications like Ozempic and Zepbound has been rapid. Celebrities have fueled public awareness, offering insight into their dramatic transformations. According to a 2024 survey, one in eight adults in the U.S. has tried a GLP-1 agonist. While digestive issues are among the most common side effects, many experts believe that for those who qualify, these meds are the way to go for weight loss.
A study from the Yale School of Medicine determined that, considering over 70% of Americans are overweight and we know that obesity can lead to serious health problems, access to these medications has the potential to save thousands of lives every year.
Jen Caudle, DO, a family physician and associate professor at Rowan University in New Jersey, regularly prescribes GLP-1 and GIP medications to her patients. She says stigma remains one of the biggest challenges.
“Critics will say they’re the ‘easy way out,’ but we know obesity is about more than just trying harder,” Caudle says. “It can be environmental, genetic, or hormonal. When I hear people shame others, it’s sad, because that’s wrong.”
She acknowledges that no medication is without side effects. “These aren’t right for everyone, but they’ve really changed the game,” she says. She advises patients taking them to eat slowly, stay hydrated, avoid drinking through straws (which can cause bloating), and be upfront with their doctors about any symptoms so they can work on a plan together.
For Brianna King, 28, of Columbia, Missouri, her decision to start Zepbound in September 2024 was motivated by a combination of health concerns and personal milestones. She was a new fiancée, close to completing her PhD in psychology, and wanted to feel confident during these big life moments.
“I have all these milestones coming up, and every time I take pictures, I hate them,” she says.
King also has Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), a hormonal condition that makes weight regulation difficult. Close to becoming prediabetic, and with a family history of diabetes, she knew she needed to act. An endocrinologist prescribed Zepbound, and her insurance company required her to enroll in a wellness program with weekly weigh-ins to stay eligible.
But side effects hit hard: fatigue, constipation, and nausea. Worse, she felt her doctor was dismissive of her concerns. Looking for support, she turned to TikTok, creating GLPBri. There, she connected with others on GLPs who could share real-time advice.
“My doctor has the knowledge, but she hasn’t been on a GLP-1,” King says. “The women on TikTok are going through this with me — they shared tips that really helped.”
Early on, King was still eating a lot of fast food. Her doctor recommended a stool softener for constipation, but it made her symptoms worse. To help, her online community suggested focusing on balanced meals instead and stopping the nausea medication. She also started taking her injections on Fridays to recover so she could get more rest over the weekend. The changes worked.
Now, after 40 weeks on Zepbound, she is down 40 pounds. She’s aware of the online criticism aimed at GLP-1 users but says the negative comments don’t get to her.
“If your body works the way it’s supposed to, you might not understand that solely working out and eating less doesn’t work for everyone,” King says. “GLP-1s aren’t magic shots. You still have to move your body, eat better, and stay consistent. They don’t work if you don’t work.”