Is it the end of the plus-size revolution? Lately, it feels like what once buzzed with excitement has been fading away. Just as quickly as it arrived, it seems to have vanished, leaving many of us pondering where we truly belong in the world of body positivity. It’s a painful reminder that some of us feel the revolution might have been quietly shut down.
Take a look at brands like Old Navy: they once championed inclusivity by offering 4X sizes in stores, only to pull back and leave plus-size options hanging in the balance. We’re witnessing a shift as some of our beloved “fat” celebrities shed their weight and seem to forget the community that embraced them when they were unapologetically themselves. Our fearless leader, Tess, has stepped out of the spotlight, while Lizzo’s Yitty brand appears to focus on making bodies seem smaller. Lizzo has even lost enough weight to be considered a medium frame, and just like that, we’re back to the “before and after” game on Instagram. With GLP-1s trending, it’s hard not to feel the wave of confusion and loss.
So, what are GLP-1s anyway? These hormones, produced naturally in our guts in response to food, are crucial for regulating blood sugar levels and appetite. GLP-1 receptor agonists, such as Ozempic, mimic these effects and help lower blood sugar, increase insulin production, and reduce our cravings. For anyone with Type 2 diabetes, they offer a lifeline—not only lowering blood sugar but also curbing hunger and aiding in weight loss.
But here’s the conflict: why am I on a GLP-1 when I want to see the plus-size community thrive? I’m still a proud fat girl, likely always will be. I have no desire to deprive myself of the foods I love. Yet, living a longer, healthier life matters to me. When my doctor suggested diabetic drugs a reducing and weight loss pills amidst a whirlwind of diabetes after a severe bout with COVID, I had to reassess my situation. After spending almost 50 days in the hospital, my blood sugar skyrocketed from normal levels to debilitating highs. Those pills didn’t work out at all.
Transitioning to a new doctor two years later, I faced a pivotal moment: my endocrinologist, a young and fantastic woman, understood my fears and took my history into account while navigating the insurance maze to get me on Ozempic. Since June, my A1C has drastically improved—I’ve gone from taking 60 units of insulin a day down to just 14 while maintaining healthy numbers.
I’m open about my journey, sharing updates only with those in my inner circle who can appreciate my experience without feeling threatened. I’m acutely aware of how public journeys can impact others. The flood of “before and after” pictures can trigger emotions that lead some into a spiral of self-doubt, so it’s important to approach this conversation with care.
And back to the question: is it really the end? The once-vibrant plus-size revolution now feels somewhat muted. I follow several creators who respect our community by refraining from flaunting their weight loss or posting comparison shots. They’ve acknowledged their changing bodies without putting others down. But then there are those who seem to have abandoned the message of self-love, leaving us feeling disheartened as we watch our community’s energy wane.
The fight for inclusivity is far from over; we need to rally for representation—clothes, healthcare, and platforms that foster connection and understanding. Yet, it feels like we’re stepping back, letting the struggle rest on the shoulders of smaller bodies. The journey forward is still ours to claim, and we need to reignite the passion that once lit up the plus-size revolution. Are we ready to reclaim our space and keep the fire alive?
Finding Evie 