I like my hair. But when it’s messy, I don’t rush to the nearest mirror I can find to check on it. My breasts are okay. But I have friends with bigger boobs than mine. My hip curves slightly. Slightly. (Or maybe I’m desperate for it to be that way?) There are lots of other girls who have body shapes that attract the males like bees.
Why am I noticing all this? Am I jelly? Is there something wrong with me? When I’m writing fictional stories, I realize that I have control over the entire fiction world. I get to decide who becomes what and the choices they make. I can create an extremely smart person or an incredibly beautiful one. Or I can make an ugly bastard and an unpopular idiot.
But in reality, I’m a normal person with a normal body, normal house, normal family, and normal neighborhood, going to a normal school in a normal world. I’m normal. I hate it. I wish I was beautiful. But I’m not.