I Thought GLP-1s Would Cure My Eating Disorder. They Made It Even Worse

For me, the last two months of the year feel like a minefield. With each cheerful celebration comes an abundant spread of food, but also the temptation to overeat. I struggle with a binge eating disorder. How that’s defined from a medical standpoint is chronic episodes of what Columbia University’s psychiatry department describes as eating quickly, until uncomfortably full or when not physically hungry, and are followed by feelings of shame or guilt. Practically, it means that my food-filled gatherings with friends and family are tinged with anxiety.

My life has been punctuated by a binge-restrict cycle. In years past I’d binge, and then the next day, heavily restrict my food intake via calorie-counting on MyFitnessPal and weighing out my portions with a food scale. Days later, I would lash out and binge again. In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I’ve stressed over how much I’d end up eating and if I’d be able to grapple with not overeating (even by Thanksgiving standards). When I’m around food, my desire to be with friends and family goes out the door. I’m flooded with the feeling of fight or flight, the imperative to eat as much as I can as fast as I can. That self-induced pressure is driven by the fear that the food will not be there later on.

I’m not alone. The Columbia University psychiatry department estimates that just 2.8% of American adults have struggled with binge eating disorder at some point in their lives. And for those recovering from binge eating disorder, big holiday feasts only amplify what’s known as “food noise”—when people aren’t hungry but are still preoccupied with their next meal, according to Rutuja Patel, DO, head of weight management at Northwestern Medicine.

For me, food noise shows up as a fear that the food in front of me won’t be there later or that someone will take it away. It began when I first went away to college in 2011. I grew up inside a controlling, restrictive household where, as a child, I was subjected to heavy-handed control over what I could eat. With no one to oversee my diet at school, I finally had the freedom to eat as much as I wanted whenever I wanted. My consumption quickly spun out of control, and over the next decade my weight fluctuated within a 100-pound range.

In 2023, after years of yo-yoing weight, frivolous calorie-counting, and a relentless binge-restrict cycle, I started an intensive treatment team—seeing a therapist, a psychiatrist, and a nutritionist who specializes in eating disorders—to address the roots of my disorder and my food-related fears. When I was ready, I gave up calorie counting in favor of intuitive eating, focusing on eating until I was satisfied. There were moments of stability and hope, but the journey was also marked by setbacks. At the same time, it seemed like everyone—from Elon Musk and Serena Williams to my former music teacher—were promoting glucagon-like peptide-1s, or GLP-1s, such as Ozempic and Wegovy, as miracle cures that calm food noise, regulate appetite, and help with weight loss.