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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
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christmas thinspo imagine

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the chilly winter breeze wafts through your widow, pulling you out of your peaceful slumber and bringing you into the most wonderful time of the year.

the scent of gingerbread and peppermint wafts down the stairs and into your heated room. you pull the blanket closer to you, your long and fragile fingers tugging on it.

you hear some creaking on the steps outside, and your dad walks into your room, giving you a small hug and telling you that breakfast is ready. when he hugs you, his hand feels your ribs, and he pulls you back, a look of approval and pride on his face.

he walks away, and you get out of bed, stretching your long and slender legs and pointing your toes. you scratch the top of your head, ruffling your light blonde bob.

you remember how a few months ago your mother would not dare let you dye your hair, but now that you’ve become the perfect daughter, she lets you do anything you’d like.

back when you weren’t thin, any time you would ask to do something, it would be followed with apprehension and usually a negative answer.

you now have perfect grades, she’s so proud of you because she has the beautiful and thin daughter, not the ugly and fat one.

you jump off the bed, your stomach rumbling slightly and your head swaying. in a few seconds, the sensation fades, and you smile and walk up the stairs into your bathroom. you look at yourself in the mirror, the long xl shirt that used to be just barely loose, now baggy, barely touching your figure. it falls down to your upper thighs, your long and thin legs looking like a models. you take the shirt off, putting on matching black bra and panties and admiring yourself in the mirror.

you look gorgeous.

your ribs protrude ever so slightly, like a piano on the side of your skin. your waist is small, the skin tight and firm. the collarbones on your neck pop out, sharp and defined.

you step over to pick up the outfit you planned the night before. after making sure your parents are upstairs, you slowly and quietly sneak down the stairs, not making a single sound underneath your feet.

you walk into your room, locking the door before you pull out the scale. you’ve always looked at it with anticipation, sometimes sadness, but today, you feel okay.

you step on, the number fluctuating slightly before reaching a number you had seen only in your best dreams.

114.2

your goal weight is shown right beneath your eyes, and you feel great. for the past 3 months, dieting and exercise was the only thing on your mind, but now, you’re at the place you dreamed of being at for years.

you’re very excited.

you put the scale back, putting on your little outfit.

a white peplum shirt hugs your frame, a size small, and some size 0 black jeans accentuate your thin legs. you put on a long red coat, reaching your knees and a belt cinching your waist.

you look in your vanity mirror. a feeling of familiarity washes over you, and you remember a thinspo image from a few month before, your own figure reminds you of that.

a red lipstick paints your smooth lips, and you walk back up both sets of stairs, being greeted by your grandmother, aunts, uncles, and parents greeting you, one of them holding a cup of black coffee with 3 teaspoons of honey, just how you like it.

you smile as they all fawn over your body, saying how gorgeous you’ve gotten and how pretty you look.

you laugh and respond politely, making conversation as you sip on your coffee, noticing it tastes exceptionally sweet today.

you look outside the window, a small layer of snow drizzled on the pine trees, the little white flakes coming down onto the view.

the laughter chirps behind you, pulling you out of your daze.

“we need to get going, we cant miss the christmas party.”

you get up, sparing one last wistful look at the winter scene outside.

you smile.

this is perfect.