This might work:
"Mounjaro and me: the weight of ‘normal’
After living her adult life with PCOS and steady weight gain, Phoebe Lee, Red’s senior beauty writer reflects on her 14-month journey using a GLP-1
When something has the power to truly change your life, how do you weigh that against the collective judgment — as well as fascination, sometimes envy — of other people? I’ve always been hypersensitive to other people’s negativity, so I didn’t expect to tune it out so easily when I first started using the weight-loss injection Mounjaro. Faced with my own suffering, I found the weight of others’ judgment began to fade.
If starting the injections hadn’t been so life-changing — and, honestly, life-giving — I might feel differently. My relationship with my body began to unravel in my early 20s, as I reached peak fertility and my hormones were rampant. Despite walking 10,000 steps a day between university campuses and keeping my diet steady, I gained 28kg (4st 6lb) in two years. My relationship with food warped; it seemed my body didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else’s. Whether I ate a bowl of vegetables or a bar of chocolate, the result was the same: I gained. It was the era of TV talking-head Katie Hopkins, and I remember hearing her voice ring from the television one morning, saying something cruel like, ‘Fat people are lazy. It’s simple! Eat less and move more.’
With no symptoms other than weight gain, diagnosis was a challenge. Eventually, extensive blood tests revealed I had insulin-resistant PCOS: a hormonal and metabolic tangle that causes high blood sugar and, in turn, more of the fat-storage hormone insulin. In simple terms, my body was in permanent squirrel mode.
The advice from GPs was a medical echo of Hopkins’ slogan. I tried a high-protein diet, keto, a low-inflammation diet and various calorie deficits. Then, two years ago, when I was 25, my partner added me to his private healthcare plan. Finally, I got to see an endocrinologist, who sent me for blood tests. A Zoom call with him marked the end of years of punishing diets, food anxiety and cursing my genes. ‘I think we should try tirzepatide,’ he said. ‘Many of my PCOS patients have had brilliant results.’
I gave myself the first injection a week later, holding my breath, waiting for the scratch. After a smooth first month on the starter dose, where I lost 15lb, the second was rough: nausea, acid reflux and indigestion. By month three, things had shifted. My body began to respond as it should. When I ate well, I felt well. When I moved, I saw the difference. The side effects eased, and I’ve since settled at a 10mg weekly dose, continuing to lose a steady couple of pounds a week.
A year later, I inject on Thursdays and I’m not properly hungry — although I do eat — until Tuesday. It’s a relief: without hunger, I don’t feel the need to examine every morsel of food, wondering how my body might metabolise it. I’m definitely eating less, of course, but the cruel reality is that I was never a massive eater in the first place. People often ask if I miss food. The truth is that I still eat — especially the delicious things, such as my dad’s pasta — but much less of it. I enjoy food more, actually, knowing that my body will metabolise it like a ‘normal’ person.
What I’m most grateful for is access: to expert care, to regular blood monitoring. Within a year, I no longer met the diagnostic criteria for PCOS. After years of chasing equilibrium, I feel my body is behaving as if it’s metabolically ‘normal’: there’s a clear link between effort and outcome. I’ve lost just over 6st (around 40kg), with a little left to go before reaching a ‘healthy’ BMI of 25. What’s changed most is my mental state. I can read the fashion pages of this magazine with relish, and change clothes in front of friends without wanting to disappear.
I recognise that conversations about weight can be triggering, and this drug being used by some for aesthetic reasons is controversial, but I am using it for my health. I’ve just bought my first pair of jeans in a decade and now love hiking for hours across the South Downs. Before, I’d feel like there was an elastic band wrapped around my lungs and my legs felt sandbagged. I am relearning what my body can do — and marvelling at it.
My endocrinologist tells me that, much like a diabetic, I’m a prime candidate for being on a maintenance dose for life. It has become my lifeline, which is why recent reports of price hikes are a source of anxiety. For context, my prescription was £220 a month; my pharmacist predicts £380. I’ve no idea how I’ll cover the cost, only that I must. My hope is that GLP-1s become accessible treatment options for all women like me, not just a privilege for the few. Because behind every debate about ‘quick fixes’ and ‘vanity’ are real people, simply trying to feel however ‘normal’ feels to them. For me, this medication isn’t about perfection. It’s about possibility."