Did Ozempic Kill Body Positivity Or Was It Never Real To Begin With?

Fast forward to today, and the landscape looks very different. The fuller figures that once symbolized the body positivity movement have quietly disappeared, replaced with a noticeably slimmer Hollywood. The red carpets that once featured stars confidently embracing their curves are now lined with the same celebrities who just so happened to slim down right as GLP-1 weight-loss drugs like Ozempic became widely available.

And before the body positivity believers come for me, let me clarify: this isn’t about shaming anyone for losing weight. Whether someone gains weight, slims down, or signs up for weekly GLP-1 injections is their business. But considering that many of the same people who once told us to embrace our natural bodies have suddenly downsized without explanation, it’s fair to ask—was body positivity actually real? Or was it just another Hollywood trend, abandoned the second something better came along?

Lizzo and the Betrayal of Body Positivity

Take Lizzo, for example. Few celebrities embodied the body positivity movement more than she did. She wasn’t just embracing her size—she built a brand around it. She called out “fat shamers,” made it clear she had no intention of conforming to traditional beauty standards, and actively encouraged other women to love themselves as they were.

And yet, when she started losing weight (and reporting increased happiness along with it), the backlash wasn’t from people who had criticized her for being overweight—it was from the very people who once supported her. The same fans who cheered her on for embracing her size were suddenly outraged that she might want to be smaller, as if her body was something she owed to them.

This is where the entire movement starts to unravel. Because, the truth is, being slim is ideal. It’s always been ideal. The reason so many people latched onto body positivity wasn’t because they genuinely believed that being overweight was just as desirable—it’s because they wanted to believe it.

But expecting celebrities to keep their “relatable” bodies just to make others feel better isn’t body positivity—it’s selfish. If body positivity was truly about self-love, it wouldn’t hinge on whether a celebrity chooses to lose weight or not. But as we’ve seen, the second someone from the movement decides to slim down, they get accused of "betrayal." That alone tells you body positivity was never about individual choice—it was about validating collective insecurity.

A Movement Built on Convenience

I’m willing to believe that many women had good intentions when they challenged unrealistic beauty standards and pushed for kindness toward all body types. But somewhere along the way, the so-called movement morphed into a commercialized marketing tool—one that let influencers monetize their relatability and gave celebrities a chance to be brave for posting slightly less flattering photos.

Many women genuinely wanted to believe in it. They embraced the messaging, but the brands, influencers, and celebrities who pushed it never truly believed it themselves—they just cashed in on the moment. And we probably would’ve kept believing them if Ozempic hadn’t exposed the truth. The second a quick fix became available, the same celebrities and influencers who once championed body positivity lined up for injections and quietly shrank down.

They Never Really Believed It

And why didn’t they believe the message they were selling? Probably because, once you strip away the cute slogans and glossy marketing, the idea that “you can be beautiful and healthy at any size!” was never actually true. Yes, everyone deserves basic dignity and respect regardless of their weight, but health and beauty have objective standards, and pretending otherwise never helped anyone.

The moment a way out presented itself? They took it.

And honestly, that’s fine. People are allowed to want to lose weight. But the fact that so many celebrities and influencers instantly dropped body positivity the second something better came along tells us everything we need to know: they never truly believed in it.

They weren’t embracing a heavier weight because they wanted to—they were embracing it because they believed they had no other choice. Now that a quick, doctor-prescribed fix is available, the body positivity slogans have mysteriously vanished along with the weight.

What If Body Positivity Had Been About Health?

Maybe the real movement should have been about optimal health all along. Instead of pushing body positivity as a way to validate every physical state, we could have focused on encouraging people to pursue the best version of themselves—physically, mentally, and emotionally. That doesn’t mean shaming people, but it does mean acknowledging that some lifestyle choices are objectively better than others.

Instead of glorifying stagnation or demanding that society adjust its standards, we could have promoted sustainable habits, real nutrition, and a culture that values long-term well-being over momentary self-indulgence. Because in the end, real self-love isn’t about justifying weaknesses—it’s about cultivating strength.