compounded GLP-1s – A Utah influencer’s struggle with Tirzepatide on a reality show, and the ease of getting GLP-1s through telehealth, are colliding with warnings from eating-disorder clinicians about malnutrition, bone loss, and young people chasing thinness—raising alarm over
When Layla Taylor. a 25-year-old Utah influencer and a member of MomTok. went public about using Tirzepatide on the reality series The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. the pain didn’t read like a gimmick. During a spa day. Taylor told two cast-mates. “I’m so exhausted all the time because I don’t eat.” She continued. “My body hurts every night when I go to bed. When I lie down. if my knees are touching. it hurts because I don’t have enough fat on my body.”.
She also admitted, “I don’t know how to stop.”
Hulu did not respond to questions about how it handled Taylor’s GLP-1 story. But Taylor’s pain didn’t last long on screen. Her account was followed by only a brief update that she sought treatment for her eating disorder. and then her storyline mostly faded. cast aside as a minor detail amid the show’s on-again. off-again treatment of other cast members. Taylor has said she was disappointed by how little airtime her admission received.
The season’s advertising offered a different kind of message—one that treated GLP-1s as a normalized solution. even as Taylor’s episode suggested the costs could be severe. Throughout the season. ads for Ro ran repeatedly. highlighting its “weight loss expertise.” One Ro commercial featured Serena Williams saying. “I’m on Ro.” Williams rattled off benefits she said she reaped: “34 pounds down on GLP-1s. Healthier on Ro. Supported on Ro. FDA-approved GLP-1 options.”.
The ad did not disclose that Williams’ husband, Alexis Ohanian, is a Ro investor and board member. It also did not say that telehealth providers like Ro are not under the jurisdiction of the Food and Drug Administration. or that the online health assessments used to determine eligibility can be shaky.
That disconnect—between a product marketed as carefully managed and the reality that access can be quick—shows up even earlier in Taylor’s story.
Taylor. speaking since the season finale and saying she has stopped using the drug. explained that the Tirzepatide prescription came from a plastic surgeon in Utah. “They just handed it to me without ever having an appointment with me,” she told Allure. “They got me a prescription, and it was at my house the next day.”.
Sabrina Strings. a professor and author of Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia. said she hadn’t watched the show but imagined how executives might see it. Strings said. “You can see the importance of not spending too much time lingering on the issue.” In her view. the advertisements pushed a blunt separation: “Yes. [Layla] may have a mental health concern. but that’s separate from the excellent quality of these drugs—and you need to take them too.”.
For viewers, that framing lands on a culture where GLP-1s feel ubiquitous—less like a medical decision and more like a lifestyle script.
The pathway to those scripts can be startlingly straightforward. Most Americans may not have plastic surgeons to approach for weight-loss concerns. but they do have easy access to telehealth companies and medspas offering GLP-1s. Schuyler Mitchell—who has a history of previous eating disorders—tried to see if they could qualify to microdose the medications through two telehealth companies. Noom and Hers.
After submitting online questionnaires. Mitchell said they had “lied about past eating disorder history by checking a box. ” echoing broader reports that it can be easy to be untruthful in these assessments—about age. past eating disorders. or current BMI—to obtain a prescription even when companies say licensed physicians evaluate each application.
Hers responded by warning that Mitchell’s prescription would not be “evaluated for safety, effectiveness, or quality by the FDA.” It asked harrowing questions, including, “How disruptive would vomiting, constipation, and diarrhea be to your daily life?” Mitchell was told they did not qualify.
Noom, by contrast, let them right in. After a message thanking Mitchell for taking the “important (and hard) first step” of sharing their current weight, Noom prompted Mitchell to buy a “personalized plan” for shedding 10 pounds in seven weeks.
Mitchell had been specifically attempting to access a compounded GLP-1. These versions are generally cheaper and easier to obtain than brand-name medications like Ozempic and Zepbound. and they have helped drive GLP-1s’ popularity. To avoid getting sued. the copycat drugs include added ingredients. such as Vitamin B12. to accompany the promise of weight loss. Compounded GLP-1s are not approved by the FDA. They were originally developed as a temporary solution in response to a 2022 national shortage of brand-name precursors.
Even after the shortage resolved in late 2024, Alka Menon, a sociologist at Yale, said compounded GLP-1s continue to proliferate with little oversight over the drugs themselves and the popular pathways for accessing them, including telehealth companies.
For some users, the experience can still look rosy from the outside. A New York Times poll that surveyed over 2. 000 GLP-1 users found that most were “enthusiastic. ” with 63 percent saying the drugs relieved the conditions they were treating. Menon said pharmaceutical companies believe the market for copycat drugs is “fairly significant in size. ” and she pointed to how some large telehealth companies have partnered directly with pharmaceutical companies to get branded versions—while many others began by offering compounded versions. “Most of the telehealth companies we see are doing something compounded,” Menon said.
The public often doesn’t know what they’re taking. People Mitchell spoke with couldn’t reliably say whether their medication was compounded or brand-name. The word “compounded” itself seemed unfamiliar, and so were the cascade of issues connected to it. What people did know, Mitchell said, was the cost.
Criticism has also landed at major media coverage that missed crucial context about risks. A recent puff piece in the New York Times featuring Medvi—an AI-powered telehealth start-up—failed to mention legal problems facing the company. including a February warning from the FDA against Medvi’s use of “false or misleading” claims about compounded GLP-1s. After reader uproar, an editor’s note was added acknowledging that the reporting should have included the FDA warning. Mitchell wrote that a major paper missing that context reflected society’s willingness to overlook dangers of GLP-1s because of the demand for thinness.
As telehealth companies market GLP-1s with little scrutiny. they are moving toward a $100 billion industry evaluation by the end of the decade. and the spread of access is raising concern among clinicians. The worry isn’t only that GLP-1s are being used widely—it’s how they’re being used. and by whom.
Dr. Rebecca Boswell, a clinical psychologist and director at the Princeton Center for Eating Disorders, said she has seen a “substantial uptick” in patients abusing GLP-1s and “severe cases of malnutrition.” Boswell said she was struck by how aware kids seem to be of the medications.
Speaking at a recent elementary school event about body image, Boswell said she saw children bringing up Ozempic. “They sang the jingle to me and the chorus. It was terrifying.” She added. “This was a turn I had never seen before. ” saying that kids were understanding the drive for thinness at such a young age.
Boswell acknowledged that the relationship between GLP-1s and eating disorders is complicated. There is some evidence the medications can help people struggling with binge eating by suppressing appetite. But Boswell called that approach a “Band-Aid over a bullet hole. ” adding that while the urge to binge may be “less strong. ” it doesn’t address the deeper underlying factors driving binge eating.
Physicians have reported health risks for GLP-1 patients that resemble risks seen in eating disorders. “We know that individuals with eating disorders have a high risk of bone fragility due to malnutrition and bone loss. and we’re beginning to see individuals prescribed GLP-1s with bone loss. ” Dr. Elizabeth Wassenaar of The Eating Recovery Center in Denver, Colorado, said.
Wassenaar confirmed that her center has seen “pre-pubescent children on GLP-1s seeking treatment for eating disorders. ” though she did not specify which age. She said. “I’d like for there to be better oversight for the prescription of these medications. ” and for better support for the reality of disordered eating after taking them. She emphasized that a focus on cosmetic changes from GLP-1s is especially dangerous for children and young adults.
Even adults who obtain GLP-1s online should be cautious, Menon said. She questioned whether telehealth patients are genuinely being monitored for safety. “Even if you’re getting the branded product through a telehealth service and your insurance is reimbursing you. are you being seen by a doctor who’s making sure that the side effects are okay?” Menon said. She raised additional safety concerns about ramping up doses appropriately. meeting diagnostic criteria that are reported in forms. whether dosing is the right dosage. and whether medication is mixed properly—warning that “These are all big safety concerns. no matter what the product itself is.”.
GLP-1 Tirzepatide Ro telehealth compounded GLP-1s FDA eating disorders malnutrition bone loss Serena Williams Alexis Ohanian Utah Hulu MomTok