God, Saltwater and Sticks of Butter: Jimmy Levy's MAHA Journey

By Emilie Hagen, Special to The MAHA Report

Jimmy Levy was unwinding in a quiet corner of the Ritz-Carlton in Washington D.C. After a long night of fan meet-and-greets, he figured the photo opps were over. Then the elevator doors opened. A man stepped out, spotted Jimmy, snapped a quick selfie, and slipped back into the elevator.

The next day, Jimmy saw the same man again — this time on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Levy, an American Idol alum-turned voice of the Covid-era resistance, was about to perform at the 2022 “Defeat the Mandates” rally. No need to impress a pregnant Katy Perry this time (his psychic mother, Jill, correctly predicted Katy was expecting when he competed). This crowd — 70,000 vaccine skeptics rallying for medical freedom in the middle of the Omicron surge — was there to cheer on change, not Idol contestants.

As Jimmy tuned his ear to the rally’s next booming voice firing up the crowd, he realized: the stranger he met in the elevator wasn’t a stranger at all.

It was Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

They were both headlining the event — Kennedy riling the crowd up with his activism and Jimmy igniting their souls with his music.

Three years later and a lot has changed for both of these men. Jimmy Levy, now 27, is a defining voice of the younger MAHA (Make America Healthy Again) movement. His friendRobert F. Kennedy Jr. is now HHS Secretary. These days, whenever they bump into each other, Kennedy always greets Levy with a “Hi, Compadre!”

“An awkward encounter turned into a lasting friendship,” Jimmy said grinning, “Like The Avengers.”

The two have become fixtures at political events, helping shape the MAHA counterculture — a swirl of anti-establishment energy, low-grade insurgency, and porcelain plates stacked with grass-fed steaks dripping in bison tallow.

But if anything has truly changed in the last three years, it’s Levy’s physique.

Since January 2024, Levy has dropped 200 pounds — the kind of transformation that leaves people double-taking at fundraisers and whispering at galas. Wherever he shows up — Mar-a-Lago, some low-lit donor dinner in D.C., a blurry Instagram Live — it’s the same question:

How did he do it?!

And before you assume – no, it wasn’t Ozempic.

When I caught up with Levy at AmFest in Arizona in late December, he looked fantastic. He had shed a ton of weight and was now focused on building muscle. For an hour, I grilled him about his diet regimen, expecting a Miami juice cleanse or the most cliche answer possible: “calorie deficit, 10,000 steps a day and 2-3 days a week resistance training,” the magic formula TikTok nutritionists tell us is the only way to lose weight.

Instead, I got something less marketable and way more Jimmy: God, saltwater and sticks of butter.

“All day I think about butter,” Jimmy said to me with a straight face. He wasn’t kidding.

I knew this was about to be a fun conversation.

Complicated Relationship with Food

Like many other Americans, Levy’s war with food started young — spiraling into a tangle of eating disorders that shadowed his teenage years.

The first diet he ever tried was HCG injections — daily shots to the stomach. At 16, he crash-dieted on 500 calories a day, shed 200 pounds, and gained back 230. He spiraled into bulimia. There were nights he’d hit a fast-food drive-thru, order every single item on the menu, and then purge it all.

“Food was my drug,” Levy says. “I was eating, throwing up,” adding that he sometimes downed 150 laxatives a week.

“I was going nuts,” he told me. “I was bleeding from the side. I had ulcers in my stomach. I had diverticulitis.”

At his lowest, he swung from bulimia to anorexia, eventually landing in the hospital under suicide watch. He used food as his escape.

“I was suicidal throughout high school,” he says. “And when I was 20, I started becoming really suicidal because I lost dear people,” he shared with me.

“I didn't know how to deal with it, and I just started eating and eating and eating,” Levy said.

Eventually, Levy made a decision: give it all to God. No more drugs. No more cigarettes. No more sex. Everything went — except the addiction that had always haunted him.

“I used food as a drug,” he said “I made it an idol. And I got the biggest I ever was — just over 400 pounds.”

The Catalyst to Change

Last January, Levy was hanging out with a famous rapper and had a sudden urge to steer their conversation toward faith.

“There’s a reason you’re still alive,” Levy told him. “You’re supposed to be spreading the Good News. That’s why God’s keeping you here.”

He kept going, reminding the rapper that women were just distractions, that he was destined for more.

The rapper didn’t flinch. He just looked at Levy and said:

“But you’re fat. Isn’t that a sin?”

That hit harder than anything Levy had heard before. He excused himself, went to the bathroom, and stared at the mirror.

“God told me: How do you expect Me to put you in rooms with people who have power if you’re undisciplined yourself? You’re full of the spirit of gluttony, Jimmy... it’s time to sharpen up,” Levy said, admitting that the rapper might be onto something.

Levy came out of the bathroom stall and did the unthinkable: asked the rapper to take him to a gym.

That was the first real step on Levy’s weightless journey.

Butter, Baby

Levy went old-school at first — 30 minutes a day in the gym, clean eating, no cheats. He dropped 150 pounds in four months, but then plateaued. That’s when a friend pitched him something radical:

Eat. More. Fat.

“I started eating a pound of butter a day,” Jimmy said.

Butter, he claims, was the secret weapon that had the fat melting off.

“All day, I think about butter,” he laughed. “I carry sticks of it around. Double the fat-to-protein ratio. Fat’s more important than protein.”

He swears by butter — unsalted Kerrygold, slabs of Anchor. And he’s not alone. Some MAHA moms are butter-crazed, believing it triggers leptin sensitivity, stabilizing mood and blood sugar.

“It takes four days to switch from sugar-burning to fat-burning,” Jimmy said, claiming that it’s different from other fat-burning diets like Keto that keep you in a state of highs and lows.

“With leptin, you’re calm.”

While on the diet, Levy said he avoids eating anything that will spike his sugar and insulin.

“Even eating a steak that's overcooked will spike your insulin, might as well eat cake,” he shrugged.

Other MAHA-ish diet tips? He refuses to drink plain water — only salt water, loaded with Celtic or Redmond salts. And of course like his compadre Kennedy, he loves beef tallow.

“Beef tallow is amazing. I like it on all my steaks,” Jimmy said.

He’s at a point in his diet now where he’s able to eat whatever he wants two days a week, but the discipline stuck.

The cliff notes of his regimen is simple: “Eat more fats so you don’t overeat.”

Jimmy’s looking and feeling better than ever.

“I have this energy that I want to run all the time,” he told me. “I want to be outside. I have more confidence in everything I do.”

Levy doesn’t sugarcoat the work. “It’s very hard to lose weight. It's trial and error, but don't rush, don't starve yourself. These are the things that kept me in eating disorder mode. I always think I have to rush: lose it quick!"

The stairmaster? Still the worst part of the weightloss journey.. But the breathing? The singing? Better than ever.

“I could breathe better, which is better for singing — even though, let’s be real, most fat singers are the best singers I know,” he joked.

Disrupting the Music Industry

As Levy sang “God Over Government” at the “Defeat the Mandates” rally, he watched Robert Malone, Peter McCullough, and Judy Mikovits — the movement’s medical heretics — dancing along.

He wasn’t just another voice on stage anymore; he had become a symbol. A kid who once dreamed of pop stardom — an innocent dream gutted by the industry — was now wide awake.

Like Kennedy, Levy has carved out his lane as a disruptor — not just in politics, but deep inside the rotting core of the music industry. He uses his platform to jolt his million followers awake, warning them about Satanic influence, corporate corruption, and blind allegiance to broken systems.

He’s stopped chasing Top 40 charts. He doesn’t play by the rules of Hollywood handlers anymore. He’s making music on his own terms, fusing gospel with house beats and blasting his new song “WALK” through Miami nightclubs.

“I want to work with the biggest artists and get them singing about God, family, and freedom,” Levy said.

Levy’s more than a singer/songwriter. He’s a revolutionist — armed with a mic, a Bible, and a stick of butter — a strange but effective arsenal for a man on a mission to save the soul of American music.

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