Yesterday’s post, unedited. All apologies. Life kept me from posting it:

Today was my “get back in touch with people” day, known for the sake of this post as Reaching Out Day.

Several months back, it occurred to me that I spend more time in my head than most. With that in mind, I started taking a day every few weeks to get in touch with friends via text or a phone call or even email. I once had the bad habit of ostracizing good people by never making time for them. Since I started doing my bimonthly–admittedly, sometimes they’re just monthly—reaching out days, I’ve established much stronger relationships. In fact, the friends I have now, while we may grow apart or move apart or just plain part, as so often happens, I’m glad I know them. I’m glad I’ve given them the opportunity to contribute to my life and my personality.

Leopard Fur kills me with his humor, his brilliance, his charm, and his fashion sense. I admire him as I would a statue; I love him as I would a partner. We look at one another and know, the loud posturing and the overachieving is a protective mask between us and the world. At once, it’s an expletive aimed at those who would keep us from feeling good about ourselves.

Nyte: my Asian angel. She’s as fragile as a porcelain doll. She doesn’t know yet how fierce she can be. She’s afraid of it. What the Asian culture has done to her is very much what the Hispanic culture tried to do to me, except it did it in two different ways. Our cultures demand duality. Perhaps that’s so for men as much as it’s so for women. I won’t minimize their struggle. But speaking as a woman observing another, I can safely say, the externalization of our duties yields demands that no human can expect themselves to be able to meet. We are the doting and loving wife: sexy, prudent, and forgiving. We are the mother: a disciplinarian, a caretaker, a chef, and a maid. We are the daughter: loyal and traditional. And we are the workaholic: sharp and personable and relentless. We’re so busy, we never think of ourselves.

That’s the point: we never think of ourselves. We submit to every system, internalize it so deeply, we convince ourselves it’s what we want. And maybe it is. My boyfriend invited a coworker to our house for dinner. I was ecstatic when they complimented my cooking. Watching them eat my food gave me as much satisfaction as hearing my boss praise me or being complimented on my fashion sense. I floated with glee.

There’s nothing wrong with deriving satisfaction from a clean home or a good meal you made yourself. The point is, you can’t do it for anyone else. You have to do it—and be honest with yourself about your intentions—because you’ll derive pleasure from the act. If you do it to please your husband or boyfriend, isn’t it then just telling him, “your pleasures are more important than mine”?

To this point, when I told a friend that my boyfriend was in a bad mood about my friendship with someone, they instantly asked me who I would choose if the ultimatum was put to me. I laughed as I read the text. “No,” I wrote. “He knows better than that. His choices are his. My choices are mine. And if he forces the choice on me, the choice will be put back to him.”

Thereafter, we wondered why women feel compelled to choose boyfriends over friends. We decided all reasons derived from a matter with their self-esteem.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit, I suffer from low self-esteem. You can read it all over this site, for crying out loud.

But I’ve done a great thing for myself, something a lot of people, much less women in unhealthy relationships where ultimatums would ever be seriously offer, don’t have: a support system.

Reaching Out Day is more than just getting out of my head, or reminding my friends I’m alive and well, or even just about returning increasingly harassing yet loving phone calls. More importantly, Reaching Out Day is my way of getting in touch with myself, the parts of me that aren’t in my relationship. True, the polyamorist lifestyle allows for a lot more of that than the conventional lifestyle normally does, but this is different. This isn’t carnal. This is friendship. This is connecting with others, and thereby myself. It’s exactly what my culture never wanted me to do. Unfortunately, Nyte is stuck right now And as I’ve learned, what’s good for me is good for my relationship.

Here’s to healthy growth.

Salud.