For too many years, I silently stood by and watched third-wave feminism methodically take a sledgehammer to Western society as a whole, and males in particular.

For more than two decades, I traveled the country facilitating rape and assault prevention lectures, seminars, and workshops for women of all ages. I was passionate about this work, committed to the cause, and believed wholeheartedly that what I was doing was a wholly virtuous endeavor. I considered myself a feminist. But that was then, and this is now.

All these years I silently stood by and watched third-wave feminism (with assistance from the radical left) methodically take a sledgehammer to Western society as a whole, and males in particular. Foolishly, I hoped things would eventually turn around, only to see things get worse over time.

Yet it wasn’t until I witnessed the Me Too movement snowball into an all-out, anti-male witch hunt that I realized good men were in real trouble. Astonishingly, after having been an advocate for women my entire adult life, I quickly learned I was still considered the “enemy,” simply for being a man.

Never in my wildest dreams (or nightmares) did I imagine that someday the opposite sex would view me as a threat. But it’s true, and “their” message is loud and clear: Even if you’ve been a staunch supporter of women’s rights for years, taught thousands of women and girls (many of whom were survivors of sexual assault) how to defend themselves from a violent attacker, and authored a book on the subject, you are not to be trusted solely because of your sex.

One needn’t look too far to see that today’s hyper-feminism climate has men throughout the Western world walking on eggshells at work, at home, everywhere. As a counselor, my male clients routinely voice concerns about having targets on their backs simply because they are men, and I am reticent to take on new female clients out of fear of being falsely accused of sexual impropriety.

Make no mistake: One of the goals of the radical feminist is to persecute any man who dares to wear his masculinity on his sleeve. In fact, masculinity is their true adversary.

To be sure, every man—regardless of his age, race, political persuasion, or sexual orientation—is in their crosshairs, but especially those who embody traditional masculine qualities, such as strength, discipline, direction, independence, confidence, and assertiveness. And God help him if he’s also white, Christian, conservative, affluent, or holds a position of power.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent a lifetime trying to be a good man, and to live a life of true meaning and purpose. Although I am far from perfect, I’d like to think that I’ve lived an honorable life, and have been a positive role model. In all my years, I have never intentionally hurt someone, nor have I ever turned my back on anyone who’s come to me for help.

Moreover, I have always aspired to be a fair-minded, compassionate, loving, kind, generous, and forgiving man. While I have fallen short of attaining these noble, masculine ideals on numerous occasions, I’ve never given up on their pursuit, and I never will.

With all of that being said, as I grow ever closer to turning 60, I am far less concerned about my future and well-being than I am about that of the next generation of boys and young men, who seem destined to be further emasculated, disenfranchised, and marginalized should the current climate remain unchanged.

If today’s demonization of males, along with the pathologizing of inherent masculine traits, continues uninterrupted, both sexes are in for much more pain than even today’s chaotic marriage market, anti-male education system, and rise in teen suicide and depression bear witness to.

As regrettable as it is, the recent attempt by all the usual suspects to block Kavanaugh’s confirmation to the U.S. Supreme Court at the eleventh hour by destroying his character, reputation, and life, via salacious, unsubstantiated, and uncorroborated allegations of sexual misconduct dating back thirty-odd years to when he was but a teenager, has obliterated the last vestiges of the “women’s advocate” dwelling inside my heart.

Setting politics aside, watching a good man being taken down by a mob with zero regard for due process and the presumption of innocence is the final straw for me. In other words, I’m done. While it pains me to say this, I will no longer champion any self-described women’s cause unless things dramatically change for the better.

Alas, there was a time when I was a feminist, but sadly, that time has come and gone.