Thinspo Imagine

thinspo imagine

It’s a bright summer morning, warm but not yet turned hot, the sun glinting through the windowshades when you wake up. You lie in bed for a moment face down, feeling your hipbones press into soft white sheets, sinking down until you feel only the slightest pressure on your flat stomach.

You roll out of bed and dress casually, without planning, without turning back and forth in the mirror to tell if your belly is bulging out of your jeans today. Without deciding whether or not your arms can show today. You used to be jealous of people who dressed beautifully and effortlessly, with an attitude of “oh, I just threw this together”, but you do it yourself now. You pull on soft jeans that bag a little across the backs of your tiny thighs, the ones you wear over and over again. They look perfect on your slim legs, and the waistband never, ever digs in. A t-shirt fits your bony shoulders, but bags and folds just so around your waist, your lithe torso, with the arm holes wide. You take just a moment to straighten your sheets, leaving your bed neatly made to match your sparse, clean bedroom.

Dressed for the day, you walk barefoot and soundless on spotless wood floors to the sun-filled kitchen and make coffee, grinding the freshly-roasted beans and inhaling deeply before you pour water into the press to brew. You live alone, and the fridge only has the things you want to have: fresh vegetables, fruits, herbs, a water pitcher. You pour yourself a glass of the cool, fresh water while you wait.

Coffee done, you pour it black into your favorite mug, set the press in the empty sink to cool, and take your drink to the couch. Light spills in, and the gauzy white curtains drift in the breeze from the open windows. You settle with the coffee and a book, stretching long legs out, belly concave as you lean back on the soft pillows, one slim arm slung across the back of the couch. You savor it. You’re not hungry.