Lottie Moss had to go to the hospital after taking too much Ozempic, which a friend had obtained from a doctor without a prescription.
The 26-year-old model became very ill, having a seizure and severe dehydration, even though she weighed about 60kg (9 stone). She said she would rather “die” than use Ozempic again. The drug is intended for people with obesity or diabetes and is currently in short supply worldwide.
Lottie Moss’s sister is Kate Moss, a famous supermodel known for her slim figure in the 1990s and her famous quote, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.”
Lottie described her seizure, which happened because of severe dehydration, as one of the scariest things she’s ever experienced. She said her face and hands clenching up was terrifying.
She mentioned that she wished she had known more before using Ozempic, and her weight dropped to around 53kg in a few weeks. After seeing doctors, she learned that the dosage she was using was meant for someone weighing at least 100 kilos, which is almost double her weight.
Lottie Moss has admitted to taking Ozempic and says she would rather ‘die’ than use it again
Lottie Moss explained that a few months ago, she wasn’t happy with her weight and had a friend who could get her Ozempic, but not through a proper medical channel. She didn’t go to a doctor for a proper prescription, check-ups, or tests, which are necessary when using a medication like Ozempic.
She said, “It’s a medication, and it’s dangerous. It’s meant for people with much larger body sizes. The dose I was using was for people who weigh 100 kilos or more, while I was in the 50s range.”
Lottie wished she had known more before taking it and now regrets her decision. She injected it into her leg and said it was the worst choice she ever made.
She shared a warning to others, saying, “If you’re thinking about taking it, don’t. It’s not worth it.”
On her podcast, Dream On, Lottie described the severe side effects she experienced, such as vomiting, a loss of color in her face, and a dramatic drop in weight. Before taking Ozempic, she weighed around 60 kilos, dropped to 57 kilos after the first dose, and reached a low of 53 kilos, which is just over eight stone.
Lottie Moss said she would rather not take Ozempic again, as it made her feel extremely nauseous.
She used it for two weeks, taking injections with a pen. Each week she had to take a new dose, and she felt sicker than she ever had before. She started with a lower dose but moved to a higher one, and ended up being bedridden for two days because she felt so ill and lost weight rapidly.
She began at about 60 kilos and dropped to 57 with the first dose, then to 54, and her lowest weight was 53 kilos. She described this rapid weight loss as unhealthy.
During those two days in bed, she wanted to stop taking the medication, but since it’s not like a pill you can just skip, it was already in her system and hard to stop. She even told her friend she couldn’t keep any food or water down and needed to go to the hospital because she felt so sick.
After being rushed to the emergency room, Lottie had a seizure because of severe dehydration. She described the experience as “horrible,” with her close friend having to hold her feet down while she contorted on the hospital floor.
Lottie, known from Celebs Go Dating, said the nurse was shocked when she learned the high dose of Ozempic Lottie had been taking and how much weight she had lost in just a short time.
She explained, “We went to the ER at 3 a.m., and when we told the nurse about the dose I was taking, she was horrified and said it was far too much. She also asked about my weight loss, and when I told her, she sent me straight to the emergency room, where I was wheeled through the hospital.”
Lottie added that she felt extremely sick and almost passed out when she went to the bathroom. Once she was in the examination room, she had a seizure due to dehydration, which she described as one of the scariest experiences of her life. Her friend Reece had to hold her feet down, and she felt her body and hands clenching up uncontrollably, making the situation terrifying and painful.
Lottie has talked before about how difficult it was growing up in the “toxic” fashion industry and her time in rehab for drug addiction.
She started modeling at 16 after being discovered when she was 13. She said she always felt like she was living in the shadow of her sister, Kate.
Lottie Moss has shared that she faced harsh criticism for eating on set during fashion shoots and was told by her modeling agency that she needed a 23-inch waist to walk in runway shows. She was traumatized by comments about her body and being called names like “the ham and cheese sandwich girl.” She feels lucky not to have developed an eating disorder.
Kate Moss, Lottie’s sister, was known in the 90s for the “heroin chic” look, which emphasized being extremely thin. She now regrets the phrase “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels,” and has talked about the negative comments she received from parents about their daughters having eating disorders.
Lottie believes that with the rise of Ozempic, a drug popularized by celebrities for weight loss, the harmful “heroin chic” trend is making a troubling comeback. She wants to use her experience to warn others, saying that Ozempic is meant for diabetes, not weight loss.
Lottie expressed concern that the media’s focus on extreme weight loss is harmful, especially for people with eating disorders or those struggling with their weight. She noted that the body positivity movement, which celebrated diverse body types and curvier figures, seems to be disappearing in favor of the old “heroin chic” trend. She encourages everyone to appreciate their body as it is and avoid extreme measures that could harm their health.
My Halloween decorations kept getting stolen and ruined, but my world was turned upside down when I discovered who was behind it
I had just moved to a new town, hoping for a fresh start, but my neighbor Catherine made sure to ruin everything. She complained constantly and even stole my Halloween decorations. Determined to catch her in the act and get revenge, I set up a camera. What I discovered was far more shocking than I ever expected.
I had just finished setting up the Halloween decorations at my new house, feeling a little proud of how it all looked. Orange pumpkins, spider webs, and cute ghosts lined the front yard, ready for the kids who would come trick-or-treating.
It felt good to be settled after moving to this town just a month ago. My job was great, the house was cozy, and the town itself seemed charming—except for one thing: my neighbors.
Since the day I moved in, it felt like they had it out for me. It started with small things—comments about where I parked or how I didn’t trim my bushes the “right way.”
They would glance at me disapprovingly if I said “hi” in a way they didn’t like. It didn’t take long for the hostility to grow. One evening, they even called the police because I had my music on—at 7 p.m.! I couldn’t believe it.
The worst of them all was Catherine, who lived across the street. She was relentless, always coming over to complain about something. Once, she even stole my flowerpots, claiming they “didn’t fit the neighborhood vibe.”
I was beyond frustrated. Still, as I looked at my newly decorated house, I hoped at least this would be left alone. Just one thing that could bring some joy.
I’ve loved Halloween for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the candy; it reminded me of simpler times, warm childhood memories.
But this year, it felt different—darker. There was a hole in my heart where my dreams of having children used to be. It hurt to know I’d never create those special memories for my own kids.
Halloween, though, allowed me to heal a little, one bag of candy at a time. I poured it into a pumpkin, setting it out for the kids, and went inside, hoping for the best.
The next morning, my heart sank. All my decorations were gone. The only pumpkin left had been smashed, and the candy stolen. Tears welled up as I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by frustration and sadness. This was too much. I wasn’t going to let it slide. I knew who had done it, and I was determined to make her pay!
I stormed across the street and pounded on Catherine’s door, my anger bubbling over.
“Catherine! Open up! You’re a real witch!” I shouted, not caring who else heard.
After a few moments, the door flew open, and there she was, glaring at me.
“Have you lost your mind?” she yelled, hands on her hips.
“What did you do with my decorations?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.
“I didn’t touch your stupid decorations! Though they looked awful, if you ask me!” she shot back. “But I’m not ruining Halloween for the kids.”
“Just like you didn’t steal my flowerpots?” I screamed, stepping closer.
“Maeve, you’re crazy! You have no proof it was me!” she shouted, her face red. Then, with a loud slam, she shut the door in my face.
I stood there, shaking. “Witch!” I yelled at the closed door.
As I stood there, I realized that some of the neighbors had come outside, watching the whole scene. Their curious eyes were fixed on me, and I could already imagine the whispers behind my back.
They probably thought I was the crazy one now. I just wanted to do something nice for Halloween, and it had all been ruined. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building up again. Without another word, I turned and walked back home, my chest heavy with sobs.
Inside, I sat down, wiping my eyes. I couldn’t let this go. Halloween meant too much to me. I refused to let Catherine or anyone else destroy it. That evening, I made up my mind.
I went to the store, buying new decorations and candy. When I finished putting everything back up, I carefully placed a small camera among the decorations. This time, if she messed with them, I would have proof.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a strange noise. My heart raced as I looked out the window. All my decorations were gone. Again. Anger bubbled up inside me as I quickly threw on my slippers and rushed outside.
The cool night air hit my face as I ran to grab the camera I had set up earlier. This time, I was sure I would catch Catherine in the act.
I hurried back inside and turned on the video. My eyes narrowed, ready to see Catherine, but to my shock, it wasn’t her. Instead, it was a boy—no older than 12—taking my decorations and candy. I stared at the screen, confused. I didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.
Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and followed the direction the boy had gone. I passed house after house, but none of them seemed like his home.
I knew all the local kids, and he wasn’t one of them. Finally, I found myself standing in front of an old, abandoned house. A strange feeling came over me, urging me to go in.
Inside, it was dark and cold, the air damp and heavy. I pulled my cardigan tighter, my steps careful on the creaky wooden floors. Suddenly, I saw a faint light coming from a room. I walked in and froze.
There, huddled together, were two children—the boy from the video and a little girl, barely four years old. They were trembling, surrounded by my Halloween decorations.
“Please, don’t turn us in to the police!” the boy cried, his voice shaking. “My sister loves Halloween, but we don’t have any money. I didn’t want to steal, I swear! You just had the best decorations,” he said, his eyes wide with fear.
I stood there, staring at them. Two small kids in this awful, broken house. They looked so scared, and to be honest, I was scared too. The decorations didn’t matter anymore.
“Why are you here? Where are your parents?” I asked.
“We don’t have any,” the boy replied. “We ran away from our foster parents because they weren’t treating us right.”
I knelt down to their level, trying to understand. “What are your names?”
“I’m David, and this is my sister, Nicole,” he said, putting his arm around the little girl.
“My name is Maeve,” I told them, trying to sound reassuring. “You can’t stay here. It’s too cold. Come with me.”
David looked up at me, fear in his eyes. “Are you going to call the police?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to take you home,” I said, reaching out my hands to them both.
David and Nicole had been staying with me for several days now, and during that time, I had learned more about them through social services. It broke my heart to hear that their foster parents hadn’t even reported them missing.
How could anyone just forget about two children? I knew right then that there was no way they could go back. So, I filed the paperwork for temporary custody.
It was a bit of a process, but the social worker said the kids could stay with me even while we waited for everything to go through. That was a relief—I wasn’t ready to let them go.
The kids were amazing. At first, Nicole was so quiet, barely saying a word. She would just sit by herself, hugging her little stuffed bunny. But as the days went by, I saw her slowly start to relax.
She began to smile, laugh, and even talk a little. David, too, seemed happier. He helped me around the house, always asking if there was anything he could do.
Having them there made the house feel different—warmer, more alive. I hadn’t realized how empty it had felt before. It was as if David and Nicole had always been a part of my life.
In the evenings, I would read them bedtime stories. Every time, I felt tears welling up. I never thought my dream of having children would come true in such an unexpected way. But here we were, and it felt right.
On Halloween night, there was a knock at the door. Expecting trick-or-treaters, I smiled as I opened it, but instead of kids in costumes, I saw two police officers standing there.
“Can I help you, officers?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop a little.
“Your neighbor reported some strange screaming coming from your house,” one of the officers said. I followed his gaze across the street, where Catherine stood, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. Of course, it was her.
Just then, a loud shout echoed from inside my house. I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, that. I’m showing the kids a scary movie for Halloween. You know, something fun for the night,” I explained, stepping aside. “Would you like to come in and check?”
The officers nodded and followed me inside. As we walked into the living room, one of them asked, “Are these your children?”
“Yes,” I said, the word slipping out naturally. “These are my children.”
It was the first time I had said it, but I realized it was true. In such a short time, they had become my family. I couldn’t imagine my life without them now.
The officers glanced at David and Nicole, who were sitting on the couch, eyes wide as they watched the scary movie. Every so often, they would pull the blanket over their heads, then peek out again.
The officers smiled, clearly seeing there was nothing wrong. “Have a good evening, ma’am,” they said, heading out the door.
As they walked out, I stepped onto the porch and waved at Catherine, who was still watching from across the street.
She looked furious, her face red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stomped her foot and marched back inside. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
The next morning, I did what I had been thinking about for days—I applied to adopt David and Nicole. From that point on, I never spent another holiday alone. Every day was filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of family. I finally had what I had always dreamed of: I could call myself “Mom.”
Leave a Reply