I was talking to my brother-in-law the other day...we'll call him "Ben;" anyway, I asked Ben, "If you could choose to love cheese would you do it?" You see, he doesn't like cheese and many other dairy products and it sometimes makes him go hungry at family gatherings.
His response surprised me, "No. The hatred for cheese is so strong within me that I wouldn't do it." (These may not be exact quotations, Ben. Feel free to post a correction).
The reason for my surprise is it seems like such a rational decision: changing your food preferences for improved quality of life. But then I thought about pickles. I detest them. I can't even imagine liking them. And I'm content enough to go through the trouble of requesting "hold the pickles" at any fast food restaurant. But if I liked them, what would be the problem?
I think it boils down to identity. To change my mind and like pickles would be like wondering what I would look like if my mom married someone else. Would I even be me anymore?