I am the kind of nutter that gives feminism a bad name. Barmy. A gender hating sexist misandrist. Childish. Selfish. Unsisterly. A saboteur and troublemaker who derails feminist debates by indulging in cheap tricks and meaningless grandstanding.

Such has been the assessment of my character and behaviour from certain quarters, following my participation on a panel after the London Feminist Film Festival screening of the glorious Lesbiana – A Parallel Revolution, a film that documents and celebrates lesbian feminism and separatism. According to a previous piece on Comment is free, I reputedly "asked all the men in the audience to leave", an intervention which was greeted with hearty applause from much of the audience, but also some consternation.

Except, for the record, that wasn't quite what happened. As the transcript of the event makes clear, what I in fact said at the beginning of the panel discussion was:

"I just wonder if there are any men that would like to show their solidarity and leave at this point, out of respect for autonomous women's space. It's a polite invitation, but I just thought you might like to consider it, as political allies. Thank you." [Cheers and applause.]

It is fascinating that such a mildly expressed invitation should have proved so controversial, and fascinating that the version of events collectively agreed by many "feminists" involves apportioning blame to me for "sabotaging" and "derailing" not just the event, but indeed the whole festival.

This small incident, and the responses to it, teaches us some important lessons about levels of misogyny in our society. It is clear that those making trouble and "sabotaging" the festival are those who complained and demanded refunds, even though they had decided to leave entirely of their own volition. Those who "derailed" the discussion were those who refused to focus on a lesbian feminist film, but instead insisted on focusing on men, in spite of their physical absence from the room. And those showing unsisterly behaviour, I would venture, were those who immediately capitulated and apologised to mischief-makers and complainers, rather than pointing out what had actually happened and standing by a perfectly valid suggestion voiced by a lesbian feminist panellist.

The festival went on to showcase a stunning array of feminist films, ranging from the unflinching 1980s classic A Question of Silence, to the inspiring Ladies Turn and Kung Fu Grandma, all of which merit an engaged and urgent response and discussion. However, there was a distinct tension between the themes and content of the films screened, and the politics of the festival itself. This was thrown into sharp relief by the documentary Audre Lorde: The Berlin Years, 1984-1992, in which reference is made to an incident where Lorde requests white women to leave the room, so that black women might have an autonomous space in which to talk to each other: a politically important request, which appears to have been received as completely reasonable. Time after time, films like those mentioned above demonstrated and highlighted the power of women's autonomous, collective organising: none more so than Lesbiana – A Parallel Revolution, which stands as a testament to the courage, wisdom, joy and humour of a whole movement of women committing the ultimate sin against patriarchy of loving each other and putting women first. The sense of exhilarating possibility conveyed by the film sat uncomfortably within the context of the festival, where it soon became clear that even suggesting that a small part of the proceedings might be preferable as a women-only session was intolerable.

What has been striking following the screening is the resounding display of warmth, sisterhood and absolute solidarity between radical lesbian feminists. Beyond this community, the profound insights and knowledge that such a film offers seems to have fallen largely on stony ground, with the audience apparently treating the films more as cultural products for passive consumption rather than opportunities for serious political engagement. That the sisterhood and solidarity of Lesbiana was made available for public viewing, but was ultimately unsupported, undermined and even subsequently scapegoated, is a contradiction upon which I hope all involved will reflect.

There are, as ever under patriarchy, wider and deeper ironies in evidence and still more troubling connections to be made. The festival coincided with the 23rd anniversary of the murder of 14 women in Montreal by Marc Lepine, a man motivated by a profound hatred of feminists. Last weekend, two men responsible for killing their female partners were fondly remembered as "good guys", and Justin Lee Collins, convicted of harassing his former partner in October, has reportedly been offered a £100,000 deal to appear on Celebrity Big Brother. In the meantime, a suggestion that men might show political solidarity in respecting a brief hour of women-only space has been roundly condemned, eliciting a string of personal insults and accusations. Could such responses possibly tell us something about our respective freedoms, as women and men?

But making those kinds of connections is of course taking things too far. As is asserting the right of women to demand our own space in far stronger and more emphatic terms than I did last Thursday evening. Barmy. Sexist. Misandrist. Meaningless grandstanding. There, that's got the ball rolling. Over to you.