Self-conscious.

One of the few signs that I've grown in recent months: I've finally stopped critiquing my own appearance in front of potential or actual sexual partners. Which is more difficult than it sounds. But I learned from seeing other people do it; when someone says "ugh, I'm so fat" or "yeah, I'm hairy, sorry", it doesn't make me think any better of them. I already know you're fat, I'm not blind, and if it was a deal-breaker then I wouldn't be here. Now I'm obligated to produce the fished-for compliment, to notice the worst parts of their appearance, and to reframe my attraction to them as reassuring rather than hot.

I still can't help thinking "am I too fat? tits too small? hair too messy? earlobes displeasingly shaped?" But at least I've learned not to say it out loud.

Because if the answer was yes, I wouldn't get the chance to ask.

(And they still wouldn't tell me most likely, because what kind of asshole turns someone down for a date, then enumerates the specific physical flaws that drove their reasoning? That would be harsh.)