Hi, Miranda,

First of all, congratulations on the engagement! For years, I've seen how happy you and Chase make each other, and I'm overjoyed that you two are taking this big step. (So long as you feel empowered in your choice to enter into this outmoded social contract, that is!)

Now, listen, I don't want to rain on your parade, but I do feel compelled to mention to you that, as a vocal male feminist, I'm offended that I wasn't invited to your bachelorette party.

Yes, I have dated a lot of your friends who will be at the party. And, yes, all of those relationships ended very poorly, owing to my behavior. But why should that prohibit me from being invited? I am a feminist! How many times do I have to say it? I'm one of the good ones!

Why did I have to hear about your bachelorette party from Amanda and then have to rant to her about it for forty-five minutes? (For the record: I could have gone on for another forty-five if Amanda hadn't been so intimidated by my knowledge of bell hooks.)

Miranda, we've known each other since college—don't you remember how we met at the Women's Resource Center's freshman meet-and-greet and how I told you about my favorite female-fronted bands? I knew immediately that we'd get along when you complimented my ability to "insert myself into a conversation." So when I got the save-the-date for your wedding, I just assumed that my bachelorette invitation was close behind. How wrong I was. As a vocal male feminist, I'm not used to feeling wrong.

I understand that men aren't "traditionally" invited to bachelorette parties. But what use do we have for "traditional" gender roles anymore? We're more evolved now, Miranda! I don't even have a gender listed on Facebook! I cannot even tell you how often I've been called a "woke bae."

I mean, the term "bachelorette party" should really be updated for the feminist world that I am (and I hope you are) living in. Maybe something like "Pre-Marriage Bash," or "As the Wicked Patriarchy Dictates." See, unlike some of your friends, I have a sense of humor about these things.

Remember at your "Real World" watch party, when I yelled at Mark for objectifying one of the women on the show? And how I seamlessly transitioned into a discussion of how, in fact, the whole series is sexist and problematic and you said that my politics were "sure, right?" I could provide a similar function at your bachelorette party! Have I mentioned to you that someday I hope to be the primary caregiver for a child with an androgynous name?

Are you afraid that if you invite me I won't recognize and vocally acknowledge my privilege? You should know by now that I'm committed to loudly telling people about my feminism. The job of a true ally is to speak without being asked to.

And, if you have strippers, I won't make them feel uncomfortable. I recognize beauty in all forms. If the strippers are uncomfortable, that's their problem and your problem for hiring non-male-feminist strippers. By the way, I'm fine drinking from a penis-shaped straw.

It pains me to say this, but it's almost like you want your party to be an event devoid of the type of meaningful discourse that I always insist upon. Which is why I'm throwing my own, more feminist bachelorette party, on the same night as yours. My get-together will be open to everyone and will have vegan snacks in the shapes of all different sorts of genitalia and a playlist of strictly world music. I hope you'll attend, Miranda, because you will of course be invited. Anyone who proudly calls himself a feminist will be welcome.

I hope this isn't too hard for you to hear. But speaking loudly, even when people tell you to shut up and listen for once, well, that's the burden of vocal male feminists like me.