In the last year, I’ve lost a whopping 65 pounds.
You’d think my family and friends would be happy for me. Guess what? They weren’t.
Back then, I knew my knees were rubbing together and my stomach was like baked bread fortified with extra yeast. But I didn’t care. Later, during my work life, I gained weight with lots of slushy, green margaritas at almost daily happy hours in Louisiana, where I lived.
It was in my genes as well as my diet. My entire family was mostly overweight with Type 2 diabetes. I soon developed the disease and was cautioned to lose weight. I tried diet plans, pills and herbal teas along with working out incessantly. In the end, I lost about five pounds.
Then my endocrinologist put me on a GLP-1 receptor agonist, and within a year, I went from 180 pounds at 5’3” to 129 pounds.
There was one problem that many of us on the GLP-1s talk about and that is hair loss. Despite trying hair vitamins and shampoos that promise to stimulate new growth, it remains a problem.
Even though I’m a trim 67, the new me may not be supermodel material, but I think I look pretty darn good! Still, some of my friends would discreetly touch my arm and ask, “Are you sick?” Then, as my weight continued to drop, there were lots of other sly comments, like “Where has your butt gone?” I noticed negativity about my weight had turned into full-blown jealousy.
“Dare I say you’re an anorexic?” my sister pointed out, nearly forcing me to finish my hefty plate of food. While I feel good about my increasingly svelte self and my stylish new wardrobe, I did become distraught and consulted my endocrinologist. I thought people would be happy for me, but they weren’t.
“Am I too thin?” I asked him.
“Your numbers are all good,” he responded.
“People are telling me I’m too thin,” I told him.
“Are these people fat?” he countered.
Well, yes, I thought to myself.