When I was in high school, I wanted to be taller, thinner, with green eyes and darker skin. Maybe with darker, straight hair that doesn't turn into frizzy curls above the sideburns. And freckles on the nose. But as time went on, I understood that was just wishful thinking. I can't change my curly, straw-like hair, or my eyes, height, or skin tone. I could change my weight, or try anyway, but that's largely due to genetics and an inefficient metabolism. For the most part, I do accept that I can't change anything about the way I look, but I still get the occasional bout of moodiness about my waistline. Then I remind myself that I got married, and my husband clearly likes what he sees when he looks at me, and then I feel better.