Content warning: This piece discusses GLP-1 usage and weight loss. For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with my weight. I’ve tried every trend in the book, from intermittent fasting to calorie deficits to even cutting out entire food groups. (Spoiler alert: None of them was the answer.) But when I was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism in 2020, my goal shifted away from just wanting to see a different number on the scale — I wanted to feel healthier and stronger.Â
For a while, I finally felt like I was moving in the right direction, and it seemed like all my hard work was paying off. But when I fell into a deep depression two years ago, the weight came back, and with it came the frustration of watching my physical and mental health decline. It felt like I was starting all over again.
Then, earlier this year, my doctor suggested I try a GLP-1 medication.Â
Originally developed to help manage Type 2 diabetes, GLP-1 medications like Ozempic and Wegovy have, in recent years, gained widespread attention for their effectiveness in treating obesity and promoting weight loss. Suddenly, GLP-1s are everywhere now; my TikTok feed is filled with dramatic before-and-after photos and patients’ stories about their newfound confidence.
After years of wanting that for myself, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful about my doctor’s suggestion. There was just one problem: It would cost me about $300 per month.Â
I wasn’t simply deciding whether I wanted to try a medication; I was deciding whether my health was worth putting on a credit card.
When people talk about GLP-1 medications, the conversation usually revolves around effectiveness, side effects, or the potential harm caused to those with eating disorders and body image issues. But what rarely gets discussed is the financial impact. It’s easy to advise someone to “talk to your doctor” about their options when you assume that they can afford to do so. But for many young adults, such as yours truly, that’s simply not the case.
I don’t have the financial safety net that many people take for granted — my father canceled my health insurance when I was 16, and my mother was never able to afford to put me on hers. Without insurance to fall back on, every unexpected medical cost comes directly out of my pocket. So, when it came to starting a GLP-1, I wasn’t simply deciding whether I wanted to try a medication; I was deciding whether my health was worth putting on a credit card.
For most people, that would be enough for them to just walk away. For me, though, the possibility of finally feeling healthy after years of struggling felt worth almost anything. I had spent so many nights praying for change that I convinced myself going into debt was a reasonable price to pay to feel good about myself again. And so, I went for it, thinking that if it didn’t work out for me, I could just stop.
I don’t think I fully understood just how quickly the costs would add up.
While I knew going into treatment that the medication itself would be expensive, I don’t think I fully understood just how quickly the costs would add up. Beyond paying for the GLP-1 treatment, I also had to budget for follow-up appointments, which typically cost around $200 each, along with routine bloodwork that usually runs another $100 to $150 every couple of months. By the time those expenses were added in, I was spending hundreds of dollars beyond the cost of the medication itself just to continue the treatment — far more than I could actually afford.Â
But once I started seeing results, walking away didn’t feel as easy as I’d imagined. I had already invested so much money and emotional energy into finally making progress that stopping because of the cost felt like giving up on myself and my health. So instead, I kept paying the bills, even as the costs continued to climb.
Five months into treatment, I’ve lost 25 pounds, my bloodwork shows major improvement, and I overall feel healthier both physically and mentally. I’ve also accumulated roughly $2,000 in debt.
Unfortunately, my story isn’t unique. Young adults are among the groups most likely to be uninsured in the United States. According to the Kaiser Family Foundation (KFF), a nonprofit organization that researches U.S. health policy, 14.5% of adults between the ages of 19 and 25 were uninsured in 2024. And even having insurance doesn’t guarantee affordable access. According to a 2025 KFF poll, 27% of insured GLP-1 users reported paying the full cost of their medication out of pocket. This is because many insurance plans either require patients to meet strict eligibility requirements or exclude them altogether if they’re prescribed for obesity rather than diabetes. Even for those whose plans do provide coverage, high deductibles, copays, or coinsurance can still leave patients responsible for hundreds of dollars every month.
Every monthly payment is a reminder that taking care of my health comes with a financial consequence.
As much as I wish I could stay on the medication until I’ve hit the goals I set with my doctor, that’s not my reality. Once I finish this month’s dosage, I’ll be coming off of my GLP-1 — not because it’s what my health plan calls for, but because it’s what my finances demand. Being thousands of dollars in debt has added a stress to my life that isn’t maintainable. Every monthly payment is a reminder that taking care of my health comes with a financial consequence — a consequence that I don’t deserve to face, but am forced to all the same.
Luckily, these past five months have given me the momentum to keep striving for a healthier version of me, even without the medication to help. I’ve already started to build healthier habits, and have reached a place where I feel more confident maintaining my wellness habits on my own. But while I’m grateful for the progress I’ve made, I can’t ignore what it cost me to get here. It’s frustrating that a medication so often described as a breakthrough in health care is being treated as a luxury reserved only for people who can afford it. No one should have to choose between their financial stability and their health. Yet for many college students like me without insurance, that’s exactly the choice we’re forced to make.