Thorn in my flesh

Sometimes, I wish God had made me differently.
To be more easygoing and happy go lucky
To be more naive and forgiving
To be able to let go and forget

Maybe then I'd turn out differently.
Less cynical. More supportive.
Less harsher. More gentler.
Less judgemental. More blind to faults.
Less depressed. More happier.
Less bitchy. More friendly.

But then I'd cease to be myself.
What would I become?
Could I live with that answer?