Bernard O'Shea: Ozempic or willpower to help me lose weight?

Bernard O'Shea, comedian

I wanted to go on Ozempic but decided to get up on the old-fashioned, tried-and-tested weight loss journey horse one more time

For most of my adult life, my body has been engaged in a bitter custody battle with my weight.

There have been brief moments of success—times when I could look down and see my feet without needing a periscope—but the weight inevitably came back, usually with a few extra friends.

As I’ve gotten older, the pounds have stuck around like guests who refuse to leave after a party, making themselves home on my stomach, thighs, and chin(s).

Last year, after yet another failed attempt to lose weight, I decided enough was enough.

For health reasons, I was going to ask my GP for Ozempic. I’d seen the dramatic transformations and read the success stories.

But then, through Instagram’s chaotic wormhole, I stumbled across Jill Taylor, an Irish health and fitness coach based in Portugal.

We chatted, and before I knew it, I’d agreed to give the traditional method one last shot.

One more attempt at the old-fashioned way—fewer calories in, more calories out, and an ongoing battle with my inner gobshite who insists I need “just one more slice.”

Weight loss and diet culture are nothing new. For centuries, people have been trying to outsmart their own bodies.

The ancient Greeks believed in vigorous exercise and a diet of honey and barley.

The Victorians drank vinegar and consumed arsenic (which, fair play, did lead to weight loss but also to be very, very dead).

The 1920s saw the cigarette diet—yes, smoking instead of eating. And in the ‘70s, people were chomping down on grapefruit-like their lives depended on it.

Now, we live in the age of medical weight loss solutions, where injections like Ozempic and Wegovy are game changers for those struggling with obesity.

Unlike the dodgy weight loss pills of the past (which usually contained enough amphetamines to make a racehorse run through a brick wall), Ozempic is backed by science.

It mimics a hormone that regulates appetite, making you feel fuller for longer.

The results? Weight loss without the constant battle of willpower.

Given my history, it was tempting. But something about Jill’s approach—consistent check-ins, practical strategies, and a focus on real food—made me think, “Okay, one last go.”

The science of weight loss is deceptively simple: burn more calories than consume.

The reality? It’s infinitely more complicated. Our bodies fight against weight loss by slowing metabolism, ramping up hunger hormones, and making the sight of a double cheeseburger feel like a religious experience.

Ozempic and similar medications help by reducing appetite and stabilising blood sugar, making it easier for people to stick to lower-calorie diets.

The research shows significant weight loss for those who take it consistently, but it’s not a magic bullet.

Studies suggest that once you stop taking it, the weight can come creeping back—like an ex who just won’t take the hint.

What I needed was sustainability and a food counsellor someone who could digest (pardon the pun) my relationship with my biggest demon of all food and particularly sugar.

So, here’s how Jill keeps me accountable:

Weekly Online Check-ins

Every week, I sit down with Jill via Zoom, confess my sins (usually involving a rogue slice of cake), and get a plan for the next week.

Mindful Eating

The biggest thing I’ve learned? I eat a shocking amount without thinking. Before I put something in my mouth, I ask myself: Am I hungry? Or am I just bored? (The answer is usually dull.)

Tracking, But Not Obsessively

Jill has me monitoring my intake without becoming a lunatic about it. I don’t need to weigh every lettuce leaf, but I need to be honest about that second helping of pasta.

Exercise That Doesn’t Feel Like Torture

I walk, swim, and even swing a kettlebell like a man in battle. It’s about finding a movement that I don’t absolutely hate.

So, am I anti-Ozempic? Absolutely not. I get why people take it. Weight loss is complex; for some, it’s the only thing that has ever worked.

I wouldn’t rule it out if I ever find myself completely stuck again. But for now, I’m giving the old-fashioned way one last hurrah.

Will I succeed? Time will tell. I still have moments where I stand in front of the fridge, staring at a block of cheese like it’s my long-lost soulmate.

But I’m trying. And this time, hopefully, it will stick.