There's at least a soupçon of er, Gravitas in there ... re 'Feminism'--especially 'du jour'

Invested(?) ~ seven years with Feminist-cohort--we were a Mutual-Admiration Society. Towards the end.. the
idea that this manifest-tolerance 'should be reciprocal--no?' failed. I noted a skit played out on moi: which clearly
derived from [my careful deduction] ... newer consciousness-raising tactics in her Womens' Group™.
Thus had moi become: just another Male Chauvinist Pig™ . [Who Knew?]
Etc. As the Bard so wittily informed us--of the Stakes, in [Sonnet 116]

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

(To my knowledge--only one Famous Writer + Cohort: Robert and Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
--manages the above to a fare-thee-well:
cf. her famed Sonnet ("from the Portuguesa"--his nic for her)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

[. . .]

tl;dr Nobody ever {wisely} imagined all the nooks & crannies circulating in human jelloware, as (in the
words of a Sage) "all those little [I's] running around loose, inside" ... intermixed with the narsty imaginings
of the reptile-emotional brain ... begin Acting Out (Outré?).
No regrets here, mutual-admiration-societies: simply--have their own Best-Used-By Dates, too, I wot.
But they're worth the Try, anyway. Right?