“Do use my code for £40 off at checkout,” a TikTok creator enthusiastically tells the 212 people watching her live. “Or you can head to the link in my bio to buy direct and save.”
Influencers sharing discount codes, personalised selling links or directing followers to their Linktree (a tool that allows you to share multiple links on social media in one go) is nothing new, but what made this particular TikToker’s directive unique is that she wasn’t recommending a new moisturiser or a limited edition Stanley cup; she was endorsing a GLP-1 medication for weight loss – and her followers were lapping it up.
“I’ve been wanting to give this a go for ages,” wrote one, another chiming in: “Do you think it would be good for me? I’ve never really looked into it before.”
“You’ll love it,” came the confident response, along with a finger emoji pointing to the pharmacy discount code. “Obviously my code makes it cheaper too, which is great as it’s not the cheapest.”
I was shocked.
But here's what doctors want you to know.
GLP-1 medications like Ozempic, Mounjaro and Wegovy were initially developed as an injectable medication for adults with type 2 diabetes to improve blood sugar, working by mimicking a natural hormone that regulates blood sugar, leading to weight loss as a side effect. But over the last year, they’ve become a popular tool in the pursuit of weight loss. After clinical trials, NICE (the National Institute for Health and Care Excellence) have now approved Mounjaro and Wegovy for use on the NHS as part of a structured weight loss programme, though it will take an estimated 12 years to fully roll out the drug. In the meantime, those wanting to use any GLP-1 medication for weight loss purposes can purchase it privately via one of the many participating UK pharmacies who supply it, with prices ranging from £120 to £210 per month depending on the prescriber. Standard criteria for prescription includes having a BMI of over 30 or a BMI of over 27 with three weight-related medical issues, though individual pharmacies might add their own regulations.
However, to help bring down the cost and lower the barrier for entry to those who feel they might struggle to afford the medication, pharmacies appear to be dishing out discount codes to those with social media followings specifically built around discussing their weight loss journey and experience with the medication.
These ‘Ozempic influencers’ have built highly-engaged audiences who hang on their every word, from those already several months into their own journey with a GLP-1 medication to those who might be scrolling through wellness content and get randomly served the live via the algorithm. Similarly to the ‘Ozempic influencers’ they are following, these audiences possess varying levels of awareness of the medication, its risks and implications and crucially, a need for the drug (“I need to lose 4lbs before a holiday, would it be good for me?”).
Unsurprisingly, once I’d shown some form of interest in the topic, the algorithm began to serve me an increasing number of TikTok lives from Ozempic influencers. They all looked different, their advice was different, their understanding of the drug and their level of pushiness toward their audience to try it for themselves was wildly variable, but they all had one thing in common: they were all promoting money off your first order of a GLP-1 medication, most of them proudly displaying their discount code or personal link on the screen alongside drastic before and after photo collages.
Live-after-live, I watched as people — of varying ages, weight and health — engaged in hours of discourse around the ‘best time’ to inject, the ‘best place to buy from’. Even more worrisome, many lives saw viewers ask questions that only a medical professional would be qualified to answer, ranging from, “can I take this medication if I have gallstones?” to “I took my first dose a few days ago and have had stomach pain since, is that normal?”
“Yeah, I had that,” the influencer said in response to the latter query, making no references to checking in with a GP or even taking the time to ask how severe the stomach pain was, where the person was feeling it or whether they had any medical history that might impact their body’s ability to properly metabolise the medication.
It’s particularly concerning given that there have now been 18 deaths with suspected links to weight-loss injections over the past four years, as reported to the MHRA (Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency), and published NHS figures show a large and recent increase in the numbers of hospital admissions for young people due to eating disorders. And while many who are legally eligible to take the medication find their side effects are limited to nausea and other low level gastronomic symptoms, it’s crucial that any concerning responses are reported to a GP as soon as possible. A simple “you’ll be fine” from someone with 60,000 followers on TikTok is not, and will never be, enough of a reassurance.
“As a GP, I find the promotion of weight loss injections like Ozempic through social media discount codes deeply concerning,” Dr Suzanne Wylie, GP and medical adviser for IQdoctor tells Glamour UK. “Medications like semaglutide, the active ingredient in Ozempic, are prescription-only for a reason — they require a proper medical assessment and ongoing monitoring by healthcare professionals.
“Social media influencers often lack medical training, reducing these treatments to a commodity rather than a serious medical intervention. Their promotions can create a misleading impression that these injections are safe, universally suitable, and primarily for cosmetic weight loss,” she continues. “This oversimplification risks encouraging self-diagnosis and unregulated access, bypassing essential medical guidance. The popularity of influencers can also add social pressure, contributing to unrealistic body standards and fuelling a dangerous cycle of weight loss obsession. Medical treatments should not be marketed like fashion items; they require thoughtful, personalised care.”
1 in 40 women have given this “highly dangerous” diet a go.
It’s important to caveat here that, particularly as someone who has battled disordered eating in various forms throughout their life, I make no judgements upon someone who fits the legal criteria for taking GLP-1 medications, and who has done proper and extensive research into the medication and has decided, along with their GP or pharmacist, that the benefits of the injections far outweigh the possible risks in their case. The worry is rather that the rise in those building a following, and perhaps an income too, around dishing out unqualified, unsubstantiated advice is convincing someone who wouldn’t otherwise have seriously considered taking the medication to try it.
Plus, there’s the stark difference between someone actively searching for information on GLP-1 medications and someone who, while browsing social media in their downtime, starts to consume content around a topic that they were not actively seeking. Almost as though they are being served a ‘solution’ without ever confessing to a ‘problem’, which then reverse engineers their journey to obtaining the drug. Rather than it being the result of searching for support, it’s the result of seeing an ‘attractive’, though reductive, end point and working backwards from there on how to achieve the same.
And though many of these social media ‘stars’ would say otherwise, GLP-1 medications are not miracle workers, they can pose significant health risks. “These medications are designed for individuals with clinical obesity or related health conditions like type 2 diabetes, where the potential benefits outweigh the risks,” Dr Wylie explains. “In people without such conditions, the side effects may be disproportionately harmful. Common issues include gastrointestinal problems like nausea and vomiting, while more severe risks include thyroid tumours, pancreatitis, and gallbladder disease.
“Additionally, the medication affects appetite regulation, potentially leading to disordered eating patterns if misused. Long-term use without proper medical supervision can cause nutritional deficiencies and electrolyte imbalances. This approach disregards the complex, multifaceted nature of maintaining a healthy weight.”
There’s also the impact of the parasocial relationship at play here. A parasocial relationship is defined as a one-sided relationship where a person feels a strong connection or intimacy with someone they don't know, often a celebrity or media personality. So to your mind, it’s akin to friendship, but actually the other person is unaware of your existence.
“Often, we can have the strongest parasocial relationships with Influencers because they show us so much of their lives, or what is perceived to be their lives,” award-winning eating disorder specialist and psychologist Ruth Micallef explains. “People build trust with influencers, who in reality they do not know, and this can quickly become damaging when it comes to healthcare and medication.”
“Psychology and medical professionals are bound, rightly, by strict ethical and moral guidelines that prevent us from actively or passively harming the public; and it's safe to say, ‘weight loss medications’ can be extremely harmful,” she continues, adding that influencers are not bound by these same guidelines. “An influencer can give you a discount code, but they cannot physically or psychologically assess you for your suitability for weight loss medications.”
I was prescribed Wegovy and Orlistat online with few checks.
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“Where healthcare and psychology professionals aim is to 'heal', the influencers job is to 'sell'.”
It could be argued that, due to their platform, some of these influencers are able to play a role in raising awareness and increasing access to information, as long as they direct their followers to reputable sources and are clear with their boundaries as to what they can and can’t comment on themselves. Through my own extensive viewing, it was clear that some of them were able to somewhat break down complex medical topics into digestible formats and even open up healthy conversations around wider topics, making information more accessible and on occasion intervening to direct followers to seek proper medical care. But in most cases, the misinformation and social pressure I encountered within the world of Ozempic influencers, far outweighed any assertion of ‘awareness raising’.
Alice* is just one example of someone for whom the toxic combination of a parasocial relationship with an Ozempic influencer coupled with a history of disordered eating was all too strong to resist. “I started watching this one specific woman on TikTok because I’d never really heard such a detailed first-person account of taking a GLP-1 medication, I didn’t follow her but her videos started coming up on my TikTok” she tells me. “Up until that point I’d thought that it was mainly celebs taking it, or people on clinical trials, I didn’t realise that it could be accessed through providers like Boots.”
Before long, Alice found herself logging on daily to join Lucy’s* lives and in just a few short weeks, she herself was asking questions. “I just really trusted her, she seemed to be so knowledgeable and she had an answer for any question that was thrown at her,” Alice says. “I started to recognise the same names pop up over-and-over again and I liked the feeling that this was a little ‘club’ we were all part of, supporting others in their journeys really openly, whereas normally I’d found discussion around weight loss on social media and in public to be too vulnerable or ‘taboo’ to really engage in.“
And even though she initially began listening just because she was “intrigued”, it didn’t take very long for Alice to start seriously considering buying the medication herself. “I had the live stream open on my phone one day and just decided now was the time to apply, so I filled out the forms on the Boots website and sent off my pictures and then immediately told the chat that I’d applied.”
Alice says her admission received a clap from the influencer, as well as lots of iterations of ‘welcome’ and ‘well done’ from others in the faceless chat. “I felt as though I’d really achieved something, or been initiated into something, and I feel sort of embarrassed to admit that the response made me feel really good about myself,” she says. “I wasn’t even really thinking about the implications of starting the medication, more just how exciting it felt that I might be about to understand what everyone in the chat was talking about and experiencing.”
And Alice will be one of many whose GLP-1 journey began on social media. To try to combat the problem, TikTok recently introduced stricter rules, limiting weight-loss-related content to users 18 and older and excluding it from the “For You” page, they are also fast to slap Ozempic influencers with ‘warnings’ and ‘restrictions’ on their live videos, something many of them express outrage at in real time. “I’m just trying to help people here,” one says in response to seeing a warning flash up. “Hold on guys, I need to log off and then come back on so that TikTok pushes my live out to more people again.”
While some pharmacies are taking action themselves, like MedExpress, for example, who now forbid those with discount codes for their pharmacy to openly advertise them on social media. “Inbox me if you’re after a code,” one such influencer tells her audience in response to the ban. “I’m not allowed to share in public anymore.”
My worry though, and it seems to be shared by many medical professionals too, is that now the beast has been unleashed, it feels - currently, at least - almost impossible to contain. Where there’s money to be made and clout to be gained, intrigue and interest will always abound.
