Grief over lost years — processing emotions about weight

I want to add some systemic context to your very valid anger. The reason GLP-1 medications weren't more widely prescribed earlier isn't just individual physician failure — it's the result of decades of institutional weight stigma in medical education.

As of 2020, the average U.S. medical school devoted fewer than 24 hours over four years to nutrition education. Obesity medicine was rarely taught as a subspecialty. The prevailing model was "calories in, calories out" — a thermodynamic oversimplification that ignores neurobiology, genetics, gut microbiome, hormonal regulation, and the very GLP-1 system we're now treating.

The system was built on the assumption that fat people were morally deficient. It took decades of advocacy by obesity medicine specialists to get these medications approved, covered by insurance (partially), and into public awareness. And even now, the stigma persists.

Your anger is aimed at the right target. The system failed you. Spectacularly.

I fluctuate between the anger and something that might be even harder: forgiveness. Not forgiving the system — I'm with you all on that. But forgiving myself.

Because even though I know intellectually that it wasn't my fault, there's a part of me that still whispers "but you could have tried harder." And I have to keep reminding that voice: I tried as hard as a human can try. I tried until I was exhausted and broken and had nothing left. And it wasn't enough because the problem was never willpower. The problem was neurochemistry.

I'm 45. I might have 40 good years left. I refuse to spend them angry at the 20 I lost. But I'm going to let myself be angry for a while. I think I've earned that.

Hope, you made me cry. The real kind, not the ugly cry. The kind where something shifts inside.

"I tried until I was exhausted and broken and had nothing left. And it wasn't enough because the problem was never willpower."

I'm going to write that on my mirror.

I'm still angry. I think I'll be angry for a long time. But reading this thread, I feel less alone in it. And anger shared is anger that doesn't have to eat you alive.

Thank you. All of you. For 22 years I was alone in this. I'm not anymore.

Pinning this. If you're processing anger and grief about lost years, you are not alone and you are not wrong to feel what you feel.

A gentle reminder: this anger, while valid, can become consuming if it doesn't have an outlet. Please consider therapy, journaling, or even just continuing to talk here. We're listening.

Also: if reading this thread is bringing up intense emotions, that's okay. Step away if you need to. Come back when you're ready. This thread will be here.