The Hand I was Dealt

This is from an old blog entry. Journaling Reads:
When I was younger, I used to travel in a crowd of beautiful women. I
don’t know how it happened but all my female “friends” were drop dead
gorgeous and within a few weeks, my self-image managed to wither away to
nothing. At the time, I started playing a game where each time I caught
myself wishing I had someone else’s something (like hair or eyes or nose
or legs) I would force the issue.

I told myself that the rules were such that I wasn’t allowed to take
body parts or personality traits and plug them into the rest of me. If I
liked someone’s something, I had to completely change places with that
person. Not only did I get their whole body, but I got all their
personal issues, emotions, family, psychological state of mind, past,
living status, job and anything else you can think of. I basically
forced myself to choose between me and this random (or in some cases not
so random) person. Yeah, I got to have their small nose or blue eyes,
but was I ready to also have their eating disorder? How about the
disinterested mom? Was I willing to give up all of who I am to look like
this person? It was my way of forcing myself to face the fact that
people don’t come in pieces. You want a part, you get the whole thing.
How do you like them apples?

In fifteen years, I’ve never met one person I was willing to change
places with. I don’t know if it was the fact that I wasn’t willing to
give up certain aspects of who I am of my life or the fact that I tend
to favor the known over the unknown. Looking at a woman walking down the
street, I can see she has pretty hair or a size-2 figure, but I can’t
see what goes on in her head or how much she suffers daily. With me, at
least I know what I’m getting. Or maybe I was finally growing to like
myself. The game’s done a lot to improve my self-esteem.