Ozempic Face, Hands and Feet… Is There Any Part of Me Left to Criticise?! 🤦‍♀️🤣

I was trying to get my life back, not win a beauty competition.

Apparently, I now need to worry about my face.

And my hands.

And my feet.

Honestly, I'm almost frightened to open a newspaper in case someone has discovered another body part that weight-loss medication is supposedly ruining. 🙄

Ozempic face. Ozempic hands. Ozempic feet.

What next? Mounjaro elbows? Wegovy earlobes? 😂

I was reading the newspaper recently, and the more I read, the more irritated I became. Not because I think we should ignore the possible side effects of weight-loss medication. Of course we shouldn't.

But because there seems to be this extraordinary obsession with how people look after losing weight.

And, as usual, women seem to be getting a particularly generous helping of the criticism.

Too fat. Too thin. Too wrinkly. Too much loose skin.

Good grief, can we ever just exist?! 🤦‍♀️

I wasn't trying to look twenty. I was trying to have a future. ❤️

When I started Mounjaro in October 2024, I weighed almost twenty stone.

My BMI was 45.1, my legs were swollen with lymphoedema, and doing perfectly ordinary things was becoming increasingly difficult.

Walking downstairs was painful. Getting up from the sofa was an achievement. Putting my shoes on required considerably more effort than any reasonable person should have to devote to footwear.

And walking any distance?

Well, let's just say I was becoming very familiar with the location of every available chair. 🪑

I was frightened.

Not in a dramatic, clutching-my-pearls sort of way. Although, frankly, I might have been entitled to a little pearl clutching.

I was genuinely frightened about what my future might look like.

Would I still be able to walk comfortably in five years? Would I be able to go on holiday and explore somewhere new? Would my world gradually become smaller because everything hurt?

Those were the questions going around my head.

Not whether I might develop a few extra wrinkles around my mouth.

I can assure you that sharper cheekbones were not particularly high on my list of priorities. 😂

And apparently taking medication is cheating? 🙄

Oh, this one really gets me.

There seems to be a peculiar belief that if you lose weight with the help of medication, you've somehow taken a shortcut.

You've cheated.

You've avoided doing the hard work.

As though losing weight is a GCSE examination and somebody has caught you sneaking the answers into the room.

Except I don't remember signing up for an exam. 🤷‍♀️

I spent years trying to lose weight.

I knew perfectly well that eating less and moving more were important. I wasn't sitting there waiting for somebody to explain the revolutionary concept of vegetables.

But there's a rather inconvenient problem when you're carrying a significant amount of extra weight and moving is painful.

You move less because it hurts.

You become less active.

Your weight makes moving even harder.

And around and around you go.

Add comfort eating, stress, hormones and all the other complications of being a human being, and suddenly the advice to "just try harder" doesn't feel terribly helpful.

Imagine if we approached every other medical condition with the same attitude.

"Oh, you're taking medication for your blood pressure? Bit of a cheat, isn't it? Have you tried relaxing?" 🙄

Of course lifestyle matters. Of course medication has risks and isn't suitable for everyone.

But why does treating obesity seem to attract this extra layer of moral judgment?

I genuinely don't understand it.

Eight stone lighter, and apparently I should be worried about my neck! 🦃

Fast-forward two years.

I've lost eight stone.

EIGHT STONE.

I sometimes have to remind myself of that because it's such an extraordinary amount of weight.

My mobility has improved enormously. I can walk around London, go to rugby matches, enjoy swimming and think about holidays that would once have felt completely unrealistic.

I'm even dreaming about going on safari. 🦒🐘

And yes, my appearance has changed.

Obviously.

I'm 52 years old, I'm going through menopause, and I've lost a substantial amount of weight.

My skin hasn't magically sprung back into the shape it was twenty years ago.

Occasionally, I catch sight of my neck and think, "Hmm. That's looking a little bit turkey-ish." 🦃🤣

Would I prefer a beautifully smooth neck?

Well, yes, probably.

Would I exchange my improved mobility and independence for one?

Absolutely not.

Not even if somebody threw in a complimentary facial.

And here's the thing: I can be thrilled with my weight loss and still have moments when I'm not particularly enthusiastic about my loose skin.

I can love what my body can do without loving every single thing about how it looks.

Those feelings aren't contradictory.

They're just part of being human.

And if another woman wants cosmetic treatment because she's unhappy with changes to her appearance, that's entirely her decision too.

I'm certainly not going to criticise her.

Which is rather the point, isn't it?

Can we talk about what we've gained instead? 💗

I wish there were more headlines about the things people have gained after losing weight.

Not just the weight they've lost.

Because I've gained so much.

I've gained the ability to walk without constantly thinking about my legs.

I've gained confidence in doing everyday things.

I've gained the freedom to say yes to experiences that I might previously have avoided.

I've gained excitement about my future.

And that last one is probably the most important.

Before Mounjaro, I was increasingly worried about what my life might become.

Now I'm making plans.

Actual, exciting plans.

And if the price of being able to wander around a new city, go swimming or spend a day exploring somewhere wonderful is a slightly crepey neck, then frankly, I'll take the neck. 🤣

Every single time.

That doesn't mean my experience is everyone's experience.

Some people struggle with side effects. Some people find these medications unsuitable. Others have very different outcomes.

Those stories deserve to be heard.

But so do the stories about ordinary people quietly getting their lives back.

Women really cannot win, can we? 🤦‍♀️

There's something particularly exhausting about the way women's bodies are discussed.

If we're overweight, we're criticised.

If we lose weight, we're congratulated.

But not for too long, because apparently our faces might look older.

If we embrace ageing, we're letting ourselves go.

If we have cosmetic treatment, we're vain.

If we dress up, we're trying too hard.

If we don't, we've given up.

Honestly, it's enough to make you want to stay in your pyjamas and refuse to participate. Although somebody would probably write an article about that too. 😂

And it isn't just about appearance.

There's also the stigma around using medication.

I've spoken to someone who hadn't even told her partner she was taking weight-loss medication because she was frightened of being judged.

That makes me genuinely sad.

Imagine finding something that's helping you, but feeling you have to keep it a secret because somebody might accuse you of cheating.

Surely we can do better than that?

And then there's the jumper incident… 🤣

Now, here's where I have to acknowledge my own spectacular inconsistency.

While recording my YouTube video about the ridiculous amount of judgment surrounding women's appearances, I suddenly became distracted by my jumper.

It's pink and brown and striped, and I absolutely love it.

But while watching myself on camera, I started wondering whether I looked a bit like Dennis the Menace.

So what did I do?

Naturally, I asked everyone watching the video whether the jumper was a keeper. 🤣🤣

Yes.

In the middle of a video about not judging women's appearances, I invited people to judge mine.

The irony is not lost on me.

Not even slightly.

And to make matters even funnier, I'd recently washed the jumper and was convinced I'd shrunk it.

It's wool, and I'd put it in the washing machine, which was perhaps a slightly optimistic decision.

I carefully dried it flat on my heated drying rack, looked at it and thought, "Oh dear. That's tiny."

Then I tried it on.

And it fitted perfectly.

The jumper hadn't shrunk. I had!😂💗

Honestly, I was ridiculously pleased.

Another one of those little moments when you realise just how much your body has changed.

And for the record, the jumper is staying.

Even if I do look a little bit like Dennis the Menace.

Perhaps we could all be a little kinder ❤️

I don't want people to stop talking about the risks of weight-loss medication.

Quite the opposite.

I want sensible, balanced, accurate conversations about the benefits, the risks and the realities of taking these medications.

I want people to be able to make informed decisions with appropriate medical advice.

But I also want us to remember that there are real people behind the headlines.

People who may have spent years struggling with their weight.

People who are frightened about their health.

People who are finally finding that everyday life is becoming a little easier.

People who are simply trying to feel better.

And perhaps instead of scrutinising whether somebody's face looks older, we could ask whether they're happier.

Whether they're healthier.

Whether they can do things they couldn't do before.

Whether their life has improved.

Because surely those are the things that matter.

I started Mounjaro because I was frightened of losing my independence.

Not because I was desperate to look younger.

And two years later, I'm excited about my future.

My neck might be a little wrinklier.

My hands might look a little older.

But those hands can pack a suitcase for a holiday I'm genuinely looking forward to.

And those legs can take me places I once worried I'd never comfortably visit again.

I'll take that over perfect skin any day of the week. 💗

And perhaps the newspapers could find something else to write about.

Preferably something that doesn't involve inspecting women's body parts under a microscope.

Although I suspect Mounjaro elbows will be making an appearance any day now. 🤣

🎥 Fancy hearing the full rant?

I've also made a YouTube video about this, complete with my thoughts on Ozempic face, weight-loss medication, the media and, somewhat unexpectedly, my pink-and-brown jumper! 😂

I'd love to know what you think.

Have you experienced judgment about your weight, your appearance or taking weight-loss medication?

Or have you had one of those lovely little moments when you suddenly realise just how much your life has changed?

Come and tell me. 💕

As always, this is my personal experience and opinion, not medical advice. Weight-loss medications have potential benefits and risks, and individual experiences vary. Please speak to a qualified healthcare professional about treatment decisions.

Helen 💗