You know what I hate about myself? My height. I'm 5'6". I also hate my unibrow I have to pluck and maintain. And I wish I had better pores. And I have one tooth that's slightly crooked. It's not visible but it bothers me and makes me feel inferior. My hairline isn't what it used to be either.
But am I really the hideous monster I tell myself I am? My gorgeous wife doesn't seem to think so. And every once in a while I'll catch a glimpse of my reflection in a window or something and before I recognize it's me I'm looking at, my constantly evaluating mind thinks, "that lucky guy is better looking than I am."
I don't think it would make a difference if I were taller, or you were some idealized combination of genetics. It's not our appearance that's letting us down, it's the beasts that live in our heads: the depressions, anxieties, OCDs, cognitive errors. It's the lies they tell us. All the "if only this" and the "what if that's" they continually whisper or shout. Every thought we have is filtered through these beasts and the only thoughts they let through are the bad thoughts. They hoard all the good thoughts for themselves.
The bad news is that I can't grow taller, you can't become Indian. The good news is we don't need to. If you want to be beautiful, treat the beasts through therapy and or meds. Put them in their place. Once you've done that, once those terrible filters are gone, or at least smaller, you'll be surprised by how beautiful you are and always were.