I knew my partner would go to a stripclub in Vegas during his stag weekend. Hell, I even encouraged him. I told him that in Vegas it's all about the lapdances. I admit, there was a piece of me that was uncomfortable with my man getting a lapdance from some hot stripper. But I recognized it came from own insecurities, and I tried to let it go. But I didn't expect my reaction to be like this.
So this morning, I made a joke about one of his friends getting a lapdance in Vegas because apparently he's "not allowed" to go to strip clubs. In other words, if he went to a strip club during the stag weekend, he will be lying about it. Then I asked my partner if he got a lapdance. Yes, but just one because they are so expensive.
So after my initial jealous reaction in my gut subsided and my partner went to work, a strange thing happened. I started to have flashbacks of doing private dances for grooms. I've written about it before in a few of my ramblings. These were not traumatic flashbacks, like I'm sure some of the haters out there would like to imagine. Just brief remembered experiences with both great guys with very lucky brides-to-be and also the pigs. But it was the pigs that stood out in my mind. The ones that tried to grope me or buy sex from me, only days away from getting married. Those guys are probably one of the biggest reasons I've always had a fear of marriage.
Now, I don't think my man is one of those guys. He's too cheap to pay for sex! lol But he's also not the type to say - "Can we just pretend we did this dance so the guys get off my back? I don't think it's right and I have too much respect for my fiance." Those were always the guys I had the most respect for. I thought that if I ever did get married it would have to be to one of those types. I don't even have to wonder. I know that my intended husband is NOT one of those guys. So I guess these little flashbacks just served to remind me of that fact.
It really seems appropriate though, that I am not marrying the hyper-faithful, never look at another woman type. I mean, I spend a lot of time advocating for men to be men. Hell, I don't even think it's bad to look at other women. I look at other men all the time. I don't have any desire to fuck other men, but I do experience desire when I look at them. I will openly admit that my fantasies usually revolve around sleeping with men I don't know, or multiple men for that matter. But I don't do it. I just fantasize about it when I'm masturbating, or dream about it when I'm asleep. The thought of touching some random guys cock in real life grosses me out, to be honest.
But back to my unusual reaction. Up to this point, I was feeling what I suspect are similar feelings of other women who have borne children and gone through body changes that leave them feeling less than perfect physically - a little jealousy and insecurity. And that was a mild amount compared to what I've seen other women go through when their men go to strip clubs.
The unexpected part was how I suddenly reverted back to jaded, stripper bitch. I was thinking of all those mother-fuckers who were marrying these unsuspecting women under false pretenses of fidelity, and the old man-hating feminist bitch started to emerge. I was getting my son dressed and I tried to imagine him as a full grown man and a part of me was disgusted by him. Like he's going to grow up to be just like all those weak, fuckers with his dick in his hand under the edge of gyno row. I drove to drop my daughter off at school and my son off at daycare, and the men crossing the street with their kids all started looking like marks.
For so long, when I was dancing, every guy I saw was just another man - easily manipulated, easily seduced, easily taken for as much money as possible, because of his dick. Because he has one and follows it around like a schmuck. Every man I saw while I was out driving this morning was a mark.
I was surprised how easily I fell back into my old jaded self just for thinking on some asshole grooms at stags in strip clubs. I realize it was my man's lapdance that triggered these memories. All those fears about marriage that had snuck into my subconscious when I was dancing for assholes. But oddly enough, it didn't make me have fears about my own upcoming nuptials.
I'm not mad at my partner. I'm even able to laugh about my reaction. He wasn't cheating - at least not from his perspective. I have no intention of punishing him for it. Well, maybe a little. I mean, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. Maybe I'll do a lapdance for some hot guy when I away in Kelowna for my stagette...
The thing that really made me want to write about this experience in my blog is that for those moments that I was a jaded bitch again looking down on men for their relationships with their cocks, I felt like a feminist. I felt angry. I felt disgusted. I felt like I could go out and exploit men for all their weaknesses. (I also felt like I could go and make some good money, but that's besides the point.)
Then I came to my senses and thought - jeez, I'm glad I don't walk around feeling this way all the time now. I'm so glad I'm not a man-hater anymore. I can't imagine living my life putting so much energy into viewing women as victims and men as weak, disgusting, little pigs. I would have so much less pleasure in raising my son if I imagined every day that he'd grow into one. And I'd have so much less pleasure in my relationship.
This experience today reminded me what the most important reason is for not vilifying men. So that we as one (men, women, trans, all of us) can heal from the pain that all the hater movements have brought upon us. So we can rise above our own insecurities and fears to love one another equally and without judgment. So that we can enjoy relationships with each other that are not full of suspicion and contempt. So our boys can stop being shamed and our girls can stop being insecure.
Now if my guy was going to stripclubs regularly and getting lapdances, that would be a different story. That would be cheating, in my opinion. And then, I'd have to say bye-bye. Afterall, a stag is a stag. But a regular occurrence of half-naked women on my guys lap would be a little too much for this mother of two. And that is how I've always felt. Even when I was a dancer. That's why I always knew there are good guys out there. I met them all the time.
My guy is one of the good guys - just not quite the type to say no to a dance altogether. I can live with that. I trust him. I just hope the jaded bitch in me this morning is gone by the end of the day. I actually like living my life as a lover, not a hater. I'm much happier and more at peace. Life should be enjoyed. Even after marriage. ;)