- 6 years ago
- Wedding: December 1969
Hi Bees…I was a frequent visitor and poster here leading up to my wedding. I know this might be bad forum etiquette, but I just created a separate account under a different username for this posting because, honestly, I’m a little embarrassed. But here I am. Thought this might be a good place to go for some input and thoughtful opinions without having to call my mom and probably forever change her opinion of my husband.
My (now) husband had his bachelor party in a big city with twelve other guys. We’ve been together for about five years now, so he was clear on where I stood on strippers and strip clubs, because we’ve had a few arguments about them in our time. In short, I don’t like the idea, and agree with everyone out there who sees it as disrespectful. That said, for the bachelor party, I expected, especially given the number of alpha-males in the group, that the guys would go to a strip club or two, and a few of the guys would probably buy my (then) fiancee a lap dance or two. I did not forbid this in spite of the fact that, in the past, I’ve gotten upset when my fiancee got a lap dance, mainly because he failed to tell me about it. (This only happened once.) And the whole time I’ve known him, he has only been to a strip club maybe three or four times. He knows I don’t like it and it’s a sensitive issue with me; fortunately it’s not his thing and he is never the instigator. But occasionally, when big groups of his friends get together, they have ended up at strip clubs.
I was very cool about the bach party before my fiancee went. I didn’t freak or give him ultimatums or make demands. Before he left for the airport, he looked at me and, without any prompting, said “You know you have nothing to worry about this weekend.” I said I knew.
Fast forward to after he gets home. He tells me he had two laps dances, implies strongly that they took place at a strip club and were completely standard, non-alarming lap dances. Tell me “know you know everything bad that happened.”
A day later, I’m doing laundry when I notice makeup all over his shirt — the collar, down the buttons, and along the bottom of it, where it would normally be tucked in.
Sounding like a soap opera? Yes. True story? Unfortunately, yes again.
He gets home, and I ask if there’s anything he left out about the bach weekend. He says no, not at all. He promises. I ask again. Same response: “I had two lap dances. That was it.” I furnish evidence. I see the look of utter panic and regret and fear wash over him. He fesses up.
Story is, during one of the lap dances at the strip club, the stripper takes his shirt off. She then rubs it around on herself basically, I’ve inferred, trying to be sexy with it. This is the explanation for how the makeup got on it. She also places his hands on her shoulder, back, and boobs at various points throughout the “dance,” which lasts anywhere from 15-20 minutes, according to my fiancee.
Of course I am devastated, both about what happened and at the fact that he didn’t tell me the full story upfront. He explains how embarrassed he was and how awful he felt and that he does not care about strippers and lap dances and he was just too drunk and tired to do the right thing. He is also insistent that nothing else happened — he knows he crossed the line, but other than the touching and shirtlessness (bad enough, I know), there was nothing else at all. I ask how else you fill up 15 or 20 minutes, and he says you know what, I don’t even know how long it was. I just threw that out there before. It might not have been that long, I was so drunk and tired and I just don’t know.
We fight and cry and are hashing things out for two days straight. But I have this feeling, and say to him after a few days that I feel like there’s something else he’s not telling me. He says I’m right, and tells me there’s one other thing and he’s been trying to work up the balls to tell me: the way-too-far lap dance didn’t happen at a strip club. It happened in a hotel room.
He and three of the guys were left at the end of the night hanging out at the hotel bar. Two of the dudes have been yapping about wanting to get strippers. He and the other dude are neutral. The insistent guys win, and they all end up in one of the rooms, getting one-on-one laps dances from one of the two strippers that showed up.
This happened about a month before our wedding, and for a week I honestly wanted to pack my things and move away for ever, and start all over again. Of course the actual behavior was really painful for me to think about, and still is, honestly, but the deceit was just as bad, if not worse. Especially the way he doled out the truth in bits and made me drag it out of him. That triggered every fear in the world for me. His explanation is that he didn’t know what to do. The whole thing was just an un-erotic, meaningless thing to him and he regretted it as soon as it happened. He was weak and stupid and he knew it, but he was pretty much just effing terrified to tell me, because he knew I would be furious and didn’t know if I would get beyond it.
I probably should have said at the beginning that this is by far the worst thing that has ever happened to us. My husband, other than this one completely idiotic failure of judgment and the way he handled it afterwards, is the best man I know (besides dad, of course). He is patient, kind, thoughtful, and — ordinarily — trustworthy. He just really, really messed up.
All that said, I can’t seem to move beyond it. I’ve noticed lately it’s almost as if my feelings for him are blocked off. I find myself imagining the whole thing and wondering if there’s more I don’t know. I know he didn’t do anything completely insane like have sex with a stripper, but then again, he blatantly and repeatedly lied to me until he was backed into a corner by the makeup-stained shirt, so maybe there are a few little details I still don’t know? He says there was no kissing, no mouth contact, no touching below the waist, and 99% of the time, I believe it. But there’s that 1% of the time, combined with the fact that I’m still just pretty pissed off about the whole thing. He gave me an assurance, essentially making me a promise before he left, and he didn’t keep it.
We hashed things out quite a bit right afterwards, pretty much daily for a week or two. I have never seen a man so apologetic and downtrodden, honestly. And after that, I tried to move on and not continue to bring it up. We had a wedding to finish planning and to enjoy and it wasn’t worth ruining all of that over his momentary idiocy.
I’m sorry for the selfishly long post. I’m just carrying this around and got on here to read what others had said about the topic and only ended up feeling more anxious about the whole thing! (Doesn’t help that pretty much everyone is saying hotel room strippers = hookers, LOL.) So I wanted to put my own experience out there to see if anyone has words of wisdom. Mainly I want to let this go, and I want to go back to how I felt before, but that’s all proving pretty difficult.
Hopefully this can also be a cautionary tale for future brides. As many other posters have advised, err on the side of over-communicating before the bachelor party. Guess I should have said “no strippers in hotel rooms who take off your shirt and put your hands on their naked body.” My bad!
Any advice for this wife?