You will never be skinny enough. Everyone knows it, too. The proof is in the GLP-1 commercials aired across the country, crucially prominent alongside sportscasting. Growing up as a young athlete, you aspired to have the stunning flexibility of Simone Biles or the extraordinary talent of Kobe Bryant. So when professional athletes at the same level of skill and success advertise weight loss shots, what message does it reflect on the developing minds of their younger audience?
Arguably, the most prominent figure in GLP-1 advertising is professional tennis player Serena Williams. Brand ambassador for telehealth platform Ro, she is seen in countless commercials promoting the weight loss medication. Her presence in the medical weight loss community is especially damaging to female athletes and the populace as a whole, marketing herself as a woman who needs a shot to make herself thinner. Likewise, former NBA forward Charles Barkley is a celebrity ambassador of Ro’s GLP-1 weight loss campaign, further pushing the mentality that strength and muscle are not seen as the typical “healthy” body. Williams and Barkley are thrusting a corrupt perspective into mainstream media. It no longer matters how much muscle you have on your body, or how much you work out. As long as you are skinny, you’re valid.
The influx of weight loss advertisements puts more value in the number on the scale. Pop stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande are placed at the focal point of this discussion as well. While it’s clear that the duo has lost significant weight since the filming of Wicked and Wicked: For Good, individuals online are growing increasingly comfortable commenting on their looks. “We are just concerned for her health,” lacks the broader context of societal pressures that are likely symbolic factors in their appearances. The same side of social media that comments on their bodies are the same people who continue to degrade those who don’t fit the modern beauty standard.
When elite athletes promote GLP-1 medications, they normalize a toxic narrative: that health means thinness rather than stamina, strength, or capability. If a world-class athlete’s body is deemed “imperfect” or “not enough” without clinical intervention, the average person stands no chance against these manufactured beauty standards. Repackaging serious metabolic medication as a trendy lifestyle weaponizes science to enforce aesthetic conformity. We must reject this telehealth narrative and start measuring each other by the greatness of our triumphs rather than the size of our waistlines.