In wake of Sarah Everhard’s murder (and the subsequent murder of six Asian women), the internet exploded with women expressing grief, fear, and anger at the system—and men—who pose a constant threat to women who dare exist in public. We were fed up, and we were finally having a candid conversation about women’s experiences with harassment. Naturally, all this talk about violence against women summoned a slew of “nice guys” who pushed back at the narrative by shouting their beloved counterargument: #NotAllMen.

For a solid two weeks, my Instagram feed was nothing but men sharing #NotAllMen, and women asserting that the “not all men” was implied when they discussed gender inequality. While I appreciate the sentiment, I got really tired of seeing women spend so much time appeasing men whose entire goal was to silence women’s complaints by forcing women to coddle their feelings. No matter how well-intentioned these discussions might be, if feminists start critically discussing #NotAllMen, they legitimize it as an argument. They are still diverting attention from the issue at hand to debunk a group of men who have already made up their minds.

So I’m pushing back. I’m no longer catering to the “nice guys.” I’m no longer prefacing my feminist rants by saying “obviously, not all men” just so I won’t get backlash from a bunch of angry men. Because don’t you think that if men were actually as good as they claimed, they wouldn’t feel the need to constantly shove their “niceness” down our throats?

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but just because you’re not actively assaulting women, does not make you a nice guy. #NotAllMen is a farce created to make bystanders and microaggressors feel better about their casual sexism. Yes, all men benefit from the patriarchy. Yes, all men contribute to the system that oppresses and threatens women on a daily basis. And yes, all men need to reckon with the fact that they’re part of the problem.

I’ve had men follow me home, point in my face, scream at me, call me names, and describe the vile things they want to do to me. Almost every time I’ve been harassed, there’s been a man around who chose not to intervene—or simply didn’t notice because they’re afforded the privilege of ignorance. Any time I’m vocal about my experiences, I’m met with men who say that I deserved it, that I’m overreacting, or that I’m a misandrist because not all men are sexual predators.

I swear to God, men will spend more time defending a “nice guy’s” reputation than they will defending a woman’s safety.

But let me be very clear: for all of the horrible things I’ve experienced, I am one of the lucky ones. There are women who experience so much worse than me—especially trans and queer women and women of color—whose voices are even more silenced than mine. My anger and exhaustion are only a fraction of what other women go through, and it’s encouraged me to push back even harder against the patriarchy.

It’s why I’ve become more stubborn in refusing to let men change the subject or gaslight me into believing the #NotAllMen rhetoric. The way I see it, if a man feels threatened by feminism, he’s not one of the good ones. It’s that simple. So, for every man who attempts to negate my feelings when I’m talking about women’s oppression, I become even more certain that yes, all men are part of the problem.

Truly, I have zero f*cks left to give about making my feminism digestible for “nice guys.” I’m done wasting time sparing male feelings over my own. I don’t need to defend myself against men who are more concerned with denying the reality of 97 percent of women than they are about holding themselves (and their bros) accountable for their actions. Men need to sit with the reality that they’ve caused harm to women, and it’s not my job to use up my emotional energy trying (and failing) to change their minds.

If you’re unwilling to listen and learn about why I’m mad, you don’t get to tell me I’m wrong to feel that way.

If you’re a man, and you feel tempted to say “not all men” when a woman shares her experience with sexism, consider why your knee-jerk reaction is to keep your head firmly up your ass and deny her reality. I get it, nobody likes to see themselves as the villain, but that doesn’t mean you get to drown out women’s voices just so you can’t hear us call you out.