When Serena Williams appeared in a People magazine story on Thursday morning, talking about her 31-pound weight loss, the rollout felt more like an ad than a genuine exclusive. The headline screamed “EXCLUSIVE,” but the whole thing was carefully coordinated.
Vogue promoted their own access on social media, NBC’s Today show gave her a one-on-one interview, and Elle published a polished piece where Williams said she wanted to break the stigma around weight-loss drugs. All of it dropped at the same time, right at 9 a.m., as if following a strict media plan. This wasn’t a spontaneous confession—it was a well-timed media push tied to the US Open, which starts Sunday and is the biggest event in American tennis.
Despite the slick presentation, it was clearly a commercial. The product wasn’t just Williams’s transformed body, which had been the subject of speculation among her 32 million social media followers for months. It was a telehealth company called Ro—where her husband, Alexis Ohanian, conveniently sits on the board. (At least the press release mentioned that in a footnote.) Ro provides access to weight-loss drugs like Ozempic, Wegovy, and Zepbound.
This isn’t a one-off sponsorship for Williams. Her partnership with Ro is a multiyear campaign that will include billboards, digital ads, and TV spots. In the first ad, she looks into the camera and says, “After kids, it’s the medicine my body needed.” Ro’s CEO, Zach Reitano, was straightforward about why they chose her: precisely because some people will say she doesn’t need these drugs. “That’s why she’s perfect for it,” he explained. In other words, using Williams in the campaign is meant to normalize weight-loss drugs as lifestyle products for people who aren’t typical patients.
On the Today show, Williams presented herself as someone who doesn’t take shortcuts. “As an athlete who has done everything, I just couldn’t get my weight to where I needed to be in a healthy way—and believe me, I don’t take shortcuts,” she said. She talked about running and walking for hours after having her daughters, only to hit a plateau. In the Elle interview, she went further, describing 30,000-step days, four-hour summer training sessions, and her coach expressing concern about her weight in the HBO documentary Being Serena. “I needed to try something different,” she said. “Sometimes people do absolutely everything, and it doesn’t work.” Her message was clear: she put in the effort, and the drug was just the final piece.
Reactions on tennis Twitter and entertainment blogs were mixed. Some fans felt resigned: if even the greatest athlete of her generation needed medication to lose weight, what hope is there for anyone else? Others were angry that a global icon, once celebrated for challenging unrealistic beauty standards, would endorse a pharmaceutical trend already criticized for being overprescribed. And then there were those who shrugged it off, saying Williams has always been about family business. Much like Taylor Swift appearing on Travis Kelce’s podcast feels like smart cross-promotion, Williams’s deal with Ro isn’t just about health—it’s #couplegoals on a grand scale.
Many saw Thursday’s coordinated messaging not as honesty but as advertorial: personal struggle repackaged as subtle marketing. In an era where celebrities often blend mental health confessions or fitness “journeys” with commercial deals, Williams’s campaign came across as strategic rather than open. Her insistence that GLP-1 drugs aren’t an “easy way out” didn’t quiet critics—it highlighted a bigger concern: that even someone as disciplined as Williams felt she needed pharmaceutical help to be considered “healthy,” leaning into the very pressures she once seemed to defy.The culture of thinness that Serena Williams once defied now seems to have drawn her in. To many of her fans, her recent partnership with Ro feels like more than just a sponsorship—it diminishes her athletic legacy, suggesting that even with all her titles and hard work, she still wasn’t enough in a society that often values appearance over achievement.
This shift is especially striking because Williams built her career on defiance and being an outsider. As a Black Jehovah’s Witness from Compton, she broke into the elite world of tennis with beaded braids and an unstoppable game, facing years of skepticism, mockery, and racism. Yet she turned that pressure into dominance, winning 23 Grand Slam singles titles and redefining power and athleticism in women’s tennis. For millions, she was proof that success didn’t require fitting into narrow standards of beauty or femininity. She reshaped the sport and became a symbol of strength and resilience, especially for Black women who saw in her a world of possibility.
Serena spent nearly her entire 27-year career enduring harsh body-shaming from critics, all while winning major titles. Now, by aligning with Ro, she has moved from resisting these pressures to helping mainstream an industry focused on shrinking bodies. The woman who turned the double burden of being Black and female in America into a superpower is now reinforcing the very culture that once tried to erase her.
Critics point out the dissonance, especially given her own near-death experiences—a pulmonary embolism from stepping on glass and a traumatic C-section recovery—which highlighted systemic failures in healthcare, particularly for Black women. Many felt she was uniquely positioned to use her platform to advocate for reform. Instead, she’s endorsing a for-profit company that markets weight-loss drugs to those who can already afford premium healthcare.
This is part of a larger trend. Between 8% and 10% of Americans are now taking GLP-1 drugs, and Ro has run controversial ads, including one featuring injected bellies and former NBA star Charles Barkley injecting himself on camera. Competitor Hims & Hers aired a Super Bowl commercial. These campaigns have drawn criticism from politicians, activists, and doctors concerned about undisclosed side effects, body-shaming, and risks of malnourishment. Unlike traditional pharmaceutical companies, telehealth firms in the U.S. aren’t required to provide lengthy risk disclosures, allowing them to market drugs like lifestyle accessories. Now, they have a true American hero as the face of their push for market share.
Williams isn’t alone—celebrities like Oprah Winfrey, Whoopi Goldberg, Meghan Trainor, and Amy Schumer have also spoken about using GLP-1s. But while others sparked curiosity, Serena lends legitimacy. Her endorsement signals that weight-loss drugs have moved from Hollywood whispers to the mainstream.
The question of money hangs uncomfortably in the air. Williams isn’t a retired athlete struggling for relevance; she’s married to a wealthy tech founder and has built generational wealth herself. Yet her recent endorsements increasingly align with the aesthetics of Silicon Valley affluence and a curated, traditional domesticity—a jarring turn for someone once defined by rebellion.
As a Black woman in the public eye, Williams has always faced disproportionate scrutiny over her body—her muscles, curves, and clothing choices—scrutiny that her white peers rarely experienced to the same degree. Chris Evert once wrote her a patronizing open letter questioning her commitment, and Pat Cash declared her washed up—back in 2007.
This difficult history helps explain why many of her fans feel let down.In the comments of friendly spaces like The Shade Room, many responded with empathy, recognizing both the hormonal challenges Serena Williams described and the impossible double standard she has faced: celebrated as a legend who redefined beauty and power, yet constantly judged for the very body that made her iconic. Still, others expressed sadness over the loss of the strong physique she once proudly owned, suspecting she might be reshaping herself—and her brand—to fit a more conventional mold.
GLP-1 drugs can be transformative for people with obesity or diabetes, but they also highlight stark inequality. Wealthy Americans pay thousands each month to curb their appetites, while pharmacies limit supplies and insurers often deny coverage. For critics, Williams—once a living challenge to such hierarchies—glamorizing these drugs only worsens the disparity. Her greatness on the tennis court is undeniable, but her embrace of GLP-1 culture is a sobering reminder that even the most untouchable legends can be absorbed by societal pressures, and in a world obsessed with shrinking, even our icons can be made to fade away.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about the topic designed to be clear and helpful
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What is this article about
Its about an opinion piece by sportswriter Bryan Armen Graham that discusses why he finds it contradictory for Serena Williams who built her legacy on defying body stereotypes in sports to now partner with a weightloss drug company
2 Who is Serena Williams
Serena Williams is one of the greatest tennis players of all time known for her incredible power athleticism and for challenging traditional norms about what a female athletes body should look like
3 What is Ozempic culture
Ozempic culture refers to the recent massive trend and public fascination with using diabetes drugs like Ozempic and Wegovy primarily for rapid weight loss often promoted by celebrities and influencers
4 So is Serena Williams taking Ozempic
The article is not about her personal health choices Its about her business decision to become an investor and brand ambassador for a company that makes these types of drugs
IntermediateLevel Questions
5 Why does the author see a conflict with Serenas legacy
The author argues that Serenas greatness was rooted in embracing her powerful strong physique in a sport that often prized thinner body types Partnering with a weightloss company could be seen as aligning with the very culture that promotes a narrow standard of beauty which she once defied
6 Whats the main point Bryan Armen Graham is making
Grahams point is that this partnership feels like a paradox The same strength and body type that made her an icon are now being used to market a product that suggests changing ones body to fit a different ideal
7 Isnt investing in a health company a good thing
This is the core of the debate Supporters might say shes promoting health and scientific solutions for obesity Critics like the author argue that the messaging around these drugs is often about quick fixes and aesthetics not holistic health which clashes with an athletic legacy built on hard work and natural strength
AdvancedLevel Questions
8 How does this relate to broader issues of body image and capitalism
It highlights the tension between body positivityacceptance and the lucrative diet industry Even icons who challenged norms can be absorbed by a system that profits from body
