"My husband has booked a stripper for his mate's Bucks party. And I'm not okay."

For many months now, I’ve known my husband was organising a private Bucks party for one of his best buds.

I’ve known it will be a massive piss-up at home and that a naked lady will be involved.

I thought I’d come to terms with it. I’ve played it cool.

But now it’s on this weekend, and the truth is I’m not okay. Not. Okay.

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So here’s the go. I’m a woman, married to a man for three years. He and the fellas planned a Bucks night. It will be spent at another guy’s private apartment on Saturday, and they’re inviting a stripper over.

No, there’s nothing really out of the ordinary with this. A stripper is usually a given. I know this. You know this. We all know this.

But what I didn’t know was that I would react… so… seethingly.

I’m not a prude. I’m open sexually, sometimes too open.

I also completely trust my husband.

But something about this Bucks has rubbed me the wrong way. It’s hard to put into words.

The performance will be up and close, and behind closed doors. So perhaps it’s the thought of a bunch of drunk guys sitting at home being as vulgar as they want towards a woman and likely trying to one-up each other on how crass they can get.

Maybe it’s also the idea that the guys hand-picked their ideal woman based on her appearance and her cup size on her online stripper profile. And she’ll look nothing like me.

I hate this whole situation, and I hate what my inner response says about me. That I’m a killjoy? Or insecure? Or controlling? Or petty?

That just doesn’t seem to be a fair assessment.

Why do I have to be fine with it?

Why is it an expectation that just because another bloke is getting married, I must nod and smile when my husband calls a woman over to a private address for some naked entertainment?

It may be ‘tradition’ – albeit arguably a warped, dated, tacky and sexist one – but it doesn’t make sense.

On any other night, this would not be a “sure, honey” situation.

When you’re in a relationship, you make certain commitments to one another. Yet when it comes to Bucks parties, you’re expected to be a good wife or girlfriend by giving men a free pass.

After asking a bunch of friends how they felt, it turns out many other women resort to hiding their true feelings. Because what else are you meant to do? The bitterness it’ll cause between you and your partner isn’t worth it, is it?

One of the women who felt this way put it like this: "I tell my boyfriend it's fine, but deep down feel pissed off about it. I would prefer it if the event was large - if it's an intimate, smaller party I feel very uncomfortable."

But another said she wouldn't be "particularly happy about it," before adding: "Then again I've been at a Hens party where there were strippers and my husband was fine with it."

A male colleague tells me, "I could understand being uncomfortable if it's a private party. The boundaries in most strip clubs is pretty strict. Private strippers may well do other things, but if you trust your partner, he's not going to do anything, even when drunk."

Perhaps the most fascinating answer came from a co-worker who said she was once fine with her partner going to a Bucks because "the stripper was really not good-looking from his reports, so I didn't care".

That says a lot. I'd hate to think that all of our discomfort comes down to one deep, niggling feeling: insecurity.

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But indeed, this can be a vicious cycle of shitty feelings. The most uncomfortable part of this whole thing is knowing my husband will be in a private space, free to gawk at and desire a real-life, naked woman who I think is "hotter" than me, and fearing what the consequences of that may be -- and then this is compounded by my having to admit to myself that I can even think this way. I'm a confident person, and still I'm capable of measuring myself up against an imagined woman and projecting doubts on the man I love and trust.

We all have insecurities, and most of us work bloody hard to combat them. It's crazy that we - men and women - should be allowed to so freely put a strain on those efforts for the sake of one boozy, debaucherous night apart.

I want to say all this to my husband. But, y'know, I also don't want to ruin his fun this Saturday.

So as usual, I guess that's that.