1. So you won’t be called ‘heavy’ when picked up
2. To proudly tell people your clothing size
3. To have thighs that look small in anything
4. Having a ‘dancers body’
5. So you won’t have to compare yourself to others in the locker room
6. To look good in short shorts
7. To have people ask you for diet tips
8. To have people say you look like a model
9. So that you’ll begin to envy a model’s clothes, not her body
10. To look sexy without trying
11. To be able to change in front of friends
12. So you won’t have to worry about calories
13. Being able to sit on his lap/be picked up
14. Having small thighs when sitting
15. Look good with messy hair
16. Looking in the mirror and seeing bones, not fat
17. The feel of your ribs and hip bones sticking out
18. Always looking good in heels
19. Size 0 skinny jeans
20. Looking small in baggy clothes
21. Having visible collarbones
22. Having a thigh gap
23. Sitting in between people because you’re the smallest
24. Not having to worry about what people say behind your back
25. To become someone else’s thinspo
Please don’t start this. This is just my personal motivation.
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Reasons to Keep Going
Change
My blog and goal used to be all about being very thin, like skin and bone skinny and I always thought that was so lovely, but after almost getting to that point and then coming back I realized I wanted to be tiny and petite yes, but also tight and well defined and fit, a tiny person compact with all this muscle that doesn’t make me look like a body builder, but a swimsuit model. I have been doing really well building muscle and getting toned, and making progress on losing weight too. I’ll post pics eventually. Be brave, be beautiful, be bold, Stay Gold lovelies
Bulimia isn’t a long haired pretty girl bending over a toilet with a tragically beautiful face on. It’s a puffed miserable face with vomit dripping from it’s chin and a fucking nose bleed. Anorexia isn’t a slim figure shyly refusing a cupcake. It’s hair growing over your freezing malnourished body. Depression isn’t a model with running mascara staring into the sunset. It’s staring at the fucking ceiling at 4 in the morning with burning eyes because you can’t even find the motivation to close them. Self harm isn’t lovely boys kissing your arms telling you you’re still beautiful. It’s nasty fucking scars that will be there forever and showers that sting. Panic attacks aren’t burying your face into your lovers chest and them telling you everything will be okay. It’s feeling out of control and like oxygen has been taken from you. Mental illnesses aren’t beautiful. They don’t make you special and don’t make people suddenly care about you. They’re monsters that destroy lives. So stop taking them lightly and promoting them to impressionable teenagers on the damn internet.
