I have a confession to make. I am having major anxiety about the bachelor party. Like, major anxiety. I really don't want the boys to take Matt to a strip club. I seriously get physically ill at the thought of it. I've kind of voiced this to him, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the extent of my feelings about it. I've basically just told him that I would prefer that he doesn't go to one, but know that my opinion basically doesn't count. But the more I think about it, and the faster the weekend approaches (next weekend), the more freaked out I get about it.
We've been watching back episodes of the Sopranos recently, and you know how Tony does all of his business at the Bada Bing? I hate those episodes. I get mad when the topless ladies are walking around. I actually have a fairly strong physical reaction. It's weird. And last night, we were watching I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, and the whole thing (at least what I saw) was centered around the main character taking his friend out for his bachelor party. They went to a strip club a few towns over because the clubs where the live had instituted a "No-Touch Policy," and apparently that was unacceptable for this bachelor party. At least, for the main character it was unacceptable. Anyway, they got to the part where the guys were in the strip club, and I got so upset about it, that I just picked up my phone and went to bed. Just left the room and went to sleep. This morning, when Matt asked me why I went to bed without saying goodnight, I told him that I didn't like watching the guys hanging out at a strip club. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about my extreme physicial reaction to it.
I'm confused about this on 2 levels. 1, because I don't really know why I'm so averse to him going to a strip club in the first place, and 2, because I don't get why I can't just tell him how I really feel about it. I have a fairly good guess as to why I'm so averse to it. I have never really liked the idea of strip clubs, but I've never been the type of girl who was like, "Ew, that's so gross...boys shouldn't go there." I've always just sort of thought, "Well, boys will be boys, and it's kind of a right of passage, per se, so...whatever." But in the past few years, the idea has increasingly freaked me out.
Remember when I talked about that time in our relationship where "...things happened and I moved out?" Yeah, well, the thing that happened was an ex-girlfriend who reappeared and got into Matt's head. Big time. She got in there enough to make him question his feelings for me and whether or not our relationship was really what he wanted. That's as far she got - his head - but it was enough to do some pretty serious damage. After we worked through all of that and all of those issues, we had a lot of talks about trust and cheating and all the stuff that comes with a situation like that. His biggest concern was that I'd never be able to fully trust him again. And I'll admit, at first, I wasn't sure I'd be able to either. Especially because, at first, I just kept mentally picturing him with this girl, and it made me absolutely sick to my stomach. But now, I swear, I swear, I do trust him. It's the guys he'll be with and the girls at the club that I don't trust. Lately, when I'm obsessing over this (and I have been), if I close my eyes to try to clear my head, I see a stripper grinding away on his lap, and it turns my stomach. While I haven't told him that I don't want him going to a club at all, I have told him that I don't want him to get a lap dance. His answer to me was, "Well what I am supposed to do if the guys buy me one?" I've been just kind of shrugging and mumbling, begrudgingly, "Yeah, I get it." But I don't. Why is it so hard for a guy to just say, "No, really guys, I'm not interested."
Probably for the same reason it's so hard for me to tell him how I really feel about all of this. He doesn't want to look like he's "whipped," and I don't want to look like the "whipper." I had a friend a few years ago who forbade her fiance to go to a strip club, and at the time I was like, "Ugh, that's so ridiculous. I'm never gonna be That Girl." And yet...here I am. I'm That Girl. Or at least, I'm thinking like That Girl. And I certainly don't want to give the appearance that I don't trust him, because, as I said, I really really do. It's just that the thought of 1/2-naked women parading, dancing, shimmying, slithering around him...it just disgusts me.
Am I being crazy? Someone please tell me I'm being crazy. Or tell me that I have every right to request that he skip the strip club without seeming controlling and psychotic.