Serena Williams, Ozempic, and the push to 'cure' fatness
By Scarlet Lindsay
The internet has been divided over sporting legend Serena Williams’ partnership with weightloss telehealth company, Ro. For many, there’s a certain dissonance to seeing the former athlete, who has for so long defied societal pressure to make herself smaller, promoting the use of GLP-1s in the name of shedding weight “after kids”. But how did we get here? And what does fatphobia have to do with it?
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Let’s talk about the elephant in the room … and why it is shrinking.
I am a fat person. Fatphobia affects me in my everyday life. It also affects you - no matter your size. However, amid the fiery debates surrounding weight loss drugs and fatphobia, there seems to be a lack of representation for fat voices in the conversation.
We have recently seen this play out in the discourse surrounding Serena Williams becoming a brand ambassador for Ro, a company that sells GLP-1 injections like Ozempic. The mainstreaming of the use of these weight loss drugs - although a medical revelation for many - is deeply entangled with society’s view of fatness. So let’s talk fat!
From body positivity to fat liberation
It is hard to talk about body positivity without cringing. You might envision the 2016 tumblr photos of a barely size 12 model with “fat” and “pig” written on their tiny body in black sharpie. Or, there’s the random influencers contorting their bodies to show off some very small "rolls" in the name of being "relatable”.
Then, came fat liberation. Fat liberation is defined as “a social movement and political ideology asserting that fat people deserve a life free from oppression, stigma, and discrimination, advocating for the dismantling of systemic barriers that prevent them from having the same basic rights and access to resources (like healthcare, employment, and public spaces) as thinner people”.
For me, body positivity is fluffy, focusing simply on being happy as you are. Whereas, fat liberation is about equal rights. It is an intersectional part of feminism that is often forgotten, as many believe fatness is a moveable marker of identity that can be easily changed - or ‘fixed’, if you will.
The celebrity shrink
For all the hard work of both the body positivity and fat liberation movements, lately we’ve seen skinny fall firmly back into trend. We know this, because we’ve seen celebrities shrinking before our eyes. Think Kelly Clarkson and Mindy Kaling. Neither had bodies that would be considered “fat,” yet they are now noticeably smaller – and when you Google their names, the first suggestions that come up are “Ozempic” and “weight loss”.
More telling, are the celebrities and influencers who once built careers around body positivity and fatness and have since undergone drastic weight loss. Lizzo losing weight caused uproar from the fat community, who felt betrayed and disappointed. She had built a safe space and managed to put fat representation in the mainstream. From plus size to "mid-size" public figures, everyone seems a little more "snatched" these days.
We see these public figures lose weight and the comments are flooded with folks pointing fingers: “Ozempic!”,“Ozempic face!”, "Bobble head!” It’s the weight loss witch hunt! Some cast those who lose weight using the drugs as “cheaters”, claiming they aren't doing it the “hard” way, the “fair” way - the working out and calorie deficit and skinny tea way.
The double edged sword of fatness
Fat people are damned if they stay fat, as they are perceived as ‘lazy’ and society deems them ‘unattractive’ (I mean why are there no single thick hotties on Love Island looking for love?). But they're damned if they lose weight too - accused of betraying the community that has accepted them and fought to be able to exist as they were: fat.
People are allowed to lose weight or gain weight, as long as it is done safely. It goes without saying, that doing so safely does not include disordered eating nor anorexia, where rapid weight loss may occur at significant cost to a person's mental and physical wellbeing.
The question we should be asking is not how people are losing weight, but why? Are people losing weight because of health reasons? GLP-1 drugs have helped so many people who have long battled with losing weight, people with PCOS and a plethora of other health issues. We cannot ignore the fact that the comorbidity rates of so many illnesses are much higher for fat people.
However, for many of us, the biggest incentive to lose weight is societal pressures. The want to be loved. To fit in. To have access to clothes. I can’t tell you the last time I went into a store and bought clothes. I long to be able to go to the doctor for help and not have them tell me to ‘just lose weight’ - as if that is just the easy solution. To be honest, I have to admit my life would be ‘easier’ and more ‘accessible’ if I did lose weight. But it should be my choice.
Fat representation is already disappearing from our screens and stages. I can't help but ask if these drugs will only help exacerbate the trend among the wealthy and elite? Will fatness be only for the poor and the lazy? Will fat people one day cease to exist, remembered as a “disease” we have cured?
All I know for sure is that fat people exist today and deserve to be respected no matter what their choice is.
We need allyship from straight-sized and thin people to advocate for our inclusion, consideration and representation. We need to be honest about these drugs and their rippling effects on our culture. We need to actively work against fatphobia in society, so that people don’t feel external pressure to lose weight.
But at the same time, it's important we leave space for the people who lose weight - let's not go on an Ozempic witch hunt! We need balanced conversations about health and fatphobia. And we need fat people at the table. So let me pull up a seat.
N.B. Critically, the fatphobia I discuss is built on a foundation of racism and anti-blackness that reinforces thinness and whiteness as the beauty standard under the patriarchal and heteronormative cis-male gaze. Here, it is critical to acknowledge the privilege my own whiteness grants me.
About the author
Scarlet Lindsay
Scarlet (she/they) is a queer, non-binary, disabled, neurodivergent, fat performer, activist and novice writer who hails from Wangal land in Sydney. Fuelled by ADHD meds and DC (Diet Coke), they are a performer who will sing, act, dance and strip on any stage that will have them. They also love to put on their intellectual glasses and put their thoughts on paper, giving a voice to the communities they are proud to be a part of.
You can follow Scarlet on Instagram @scarlet.lindsay .



I commented something similar on the Cheek Instagram about this, but I don’t think the argument about Serena Williams and Ro should be reduced to just another celebrity selling diet culture. She’s an athlete who has spent her entire life training, understanding nutrition, and knowing what it takes to perform at the highest level. If she chooses to use a GLP-1 (noting her husband is a shareholder of the co), that doesn’t mean she’s betraying big girls .. I’d even argue she was the pioneer of what became the body positivity movement simply by existing and performing in her body on the world stage. Nor does her choice to endorse the medicine automatically encourage disordered eating. It shows that even someone with all the “discipline”, resources and knowledge available recognises the medical value of this medication beyond “it makes my body smaller.” These medications can be life-changing.
Reducing weight loss to nothing more than societal pressure oversimplifies why people might take them and takes away their agency. Personally, I’m a big girl and proud of it and I always will be. I played rugby in the national comp and love my body for what it has done and still can do. I started this medicine because I can’t fall pregnant and the dreaded BMI (which could be a whole essay on its own) limits access to my options for fertility services. Since starting it, my health, mobility, inflammation and comfort in my body have all improved.
To suggest that fat people might “cease to exist” because we’re all hypnotised by a celebrity-centric lens is alarmism and wrong. Body diversity will always exist. I still exist. For me, the real issue is that no one should be paid or rewarded to endorse medical choices for others, whether that’s a celebrity, influencer or doctor. Medication and health interventions should be available to anyone who needs them, and no one should be judged for choosing what works for their body. And that’s not even scratching the surface of the amount of research and medical achievements that have happened behind GLPs - much of which has nothing to do with body weight or fatness.
This piece does some really important work in terms of queering this discussion. What it doesn’t do — and it’s a big omission - is to address the racialisation of Black women’s bodies — and Serena’s in particular. Serena’s body has always been subject to scrutiny and ridicule in ways that are specific to Black women’s experiences. Remember the cartoon that was done of her when she came to Australia? Ultimately, I land in the same place as Scarlet, this move speaks to a wider culture that has no tolerance for women who don’t conform to narrower and narrower definitions of womanhood. But when we do these sorts of analyses bringing all the tools to the table - especially race when the subject is so clearly marked as a ‘raced’ person it’s important.