When I got married, I had one very specific instruction for my maid-of-honor. I didn’t make her help me address envelopes or wear taffeta. I didn’t ask her to attend countless showers or devote her weekends to cake-tasting. But I was very insistent that I did not want a bachelorette party.

Don’t get me wrong, I had no problem with going to the bars with my girlfriends to celebrate my impending wedding. I don’t mind showers or care if a bunch of ladies want to get together and give me presents. That’s cool. But I hate penis cakes, I don’t appreciate receiving lingerie in front of my mother, and I really despise the tradition of discussing my sex life in public.

Listen, I understand the tradition behind bachelorette parties. Decades ago, it was assumed that the bride was a virgin. Friends and sisters got her lingerie because the bride normally didn’t own any. The ladies of her life were just preparing her for the fun times that come along with marriage. How sweet, right? Good luck to you and your lady-flower, here’s a nightgown with lace trim.

As we all got more comfortable with our sexualities, the gifts got a little more risque. People starting buying edible underwear and vibrators for the happy new couple. I guess people might have still assumed that the couple hadn’t gotten it on yet, but I don’t know.

Now, the majority of couples live together before they’re married. Hell, I already had a child before I met my husband. No one could have assumed that I needed lingerie. My sex-necessities were fully taken care of. And not to offend my mother-in-law, but my husband and I were already pretty comfortable and happy in our sex life. Why on earth would I need a party to prepare me for my wifely duties?

I don’t have a problem with other women choosing to get together and drink out of penis straws for a night. I don’t care if they want to giggle over dildos and make lewd comments. That’s everyone’s right. Go out ladies! Have a good time! Just please don’t be offended when I choose to stay home. Or, if I make an appearance because I really care about the bride, don’t get rude when I refuse to partake in the naughty festivities.

For some reason, my insistence on keeping my sex life private seems to seriously offend other enthusiastic bachelorette guests. They just can’t seem to enjoy tasting flavored lube unless everyone is joining in. And Heaven forbid my gift doesn’t have a penis image or resemblance! How horrible! [tagbox tag=”weddings”]

You’re welcome to call me a prude if it makes you feel better about your naughty parties. I don’t mind people seeing me as straight-laced or frigid. That normally means that you won’t ask me any uncomfortable questions in the future. I’m good with that.

But please stop shoving your penis cake in my face. Shaved coconut pubes? How creative. I’m still not interested. Please don’t demand that I play “Pass the Vibrator.” I think sex toys belong in the nightstand drawer. And don’t expect me to drink from a penis straw. It’s just not going to happen.