In desi families, there are few greater achievements than thinness. Degrees gather dust but compliments for weight loss never expire. Every gathering doubles as a body audit. The number on your scale is discussed over tea, measured against cousins. A single remark—“She’s put on”—is passed around the room like a side dish. What looks like small talk often becomes a pageant without prizes.
The obsession is older than us. Thinness is social currency, proof of discipline and desirability. Pragati Goyal, lead clinical psychologist at Lissun, calls out the conditioning; women who pass these comments were often shamed themselves. “When a child is constantly compared, she learns she is only good enough if she looks a certain way.” A belief that can hardcode your self-worth before you can fully develop your frontal lobe and question it.
Decades of research have spelt it out: The constant comparisons don’t always fade, they can often calcify into anxiety, eating disorders and lifelong unease with food. Goyal sees these scars in her own therapy room. “It shakes your idea of being loved by your parents,” she says. “That can cut deeper than pressure from friends or social media.”
And now, into a culture already steeped in comparison, a new variable has entered the field. The GLP-1 drugs we know as Ozempic, Wegovy and Mounjaro have long peppered blockbuster headlines abroad and are now available in India. As Dr Sonali Shivaji Kagne, consulting endocrinologist at Sir HN Reliance Hospital in Mumbai, explains, GLP-1 drugs are essentially hormone mimics. Medications like semaglutide, liraglutide and tirzepatide copy the role of GLP-1, a gut hormone that helps regulate blood sugar and appetite. They push the body to release more insulin, rein in glucagon, slow digestion and signal to the brain that the stomach is full. “Together, these effects lower blood glucose and reduce calorie intake, producing meaningful weight loss in many patients,” says Dr Kagne.
She adds that the injections are approved for medical obesity, not slimming down, and warns that those who use them cosmetically face health risks, high expenses and the likelihood of weight regain once they stop.
Beyond the medical complications, Goyal warns that their arrival intensifies social pressure. “They validate the belief that you should lose weight quickly. It is no longer a private fear; the whole ecosystem reinforces it.” With GLP-1s being discussed as freely as intermittent fasting and juice cleanses, the idea of weight loss has shifted from a private journey to public discourse. For those already uneasy in their skin, every new mention can feel like a spotlight turning their way. What’s stopping you from being thin if all it takes is one shot a week? The price? Someone in the family offers to pay for it. The side effects? Nausea is worth it if you can slip into a trendy pair of barrel jeans with a 24-inch waist.
