Firstly, yes, I admit that I have acted abusively towards women in the past on multiple occasions; so I do speak from personal experience of factors that can contribute to such behaviour; but I can also say without irony that my feminist education actually contributed greatly to my abusive behaviour and my deprogramming from feminist education improved my behaviour towards women.

My adult female sitter molested me on and off for around a year when I was seven and eight years old; but because I feared my alcoholic and emotionally abusive dad, I kept the abuse a secret lest he find out and punish me for it. This secrecy allowed the abuse to continue for around a year.

Since my dad had raised me through fear to obey, I was acutely aware by the time I'd left the family home and moved on my own in my late teens that I'd never learnt to define, respect, and assert my boundaries on an emotional level.

I was soon invited to join the NDP (a socialist party in Canada) during a Federal election and would sometimes eat out with the other young volunteers, only to hear them engage in sexual conversation at the restaurant table.

My experiences with my sitter caused me to perceive women as potentially sexually aggressive, and my observation of my fellow canvassers' open sexuality reinforced this perception.

For that and other reasons, I left the NDP and started to participate in different religious communities based on the belief that religious women would more likely respect boundaries. I never dared flirt with a woman and even hesitated to compliment a woman's clothing lest she misinterpret it as flirtation which could provoke her to flirt with me. I always arranged to meet a woman in an organized religious group (whether of any particular religion or interfaith), and even refused to meet a woman alone and especially in private until she'd gained my trust that she would respect my boundaries and that meeting her in private was necessary for some reason. 

Due to my feminist education from school and media which taught that only men could be sexually aggressive, I dismissed my sitter's behaviour towards me as exceptional and my fear of female sexual aggression as irrational cowardice on my part. Ironically, this feminist education laid the foundation for my later abusive behaviour. 

I'd met my first wife in an interfaith youth group when I was eighteen and already living on my own and, learning that she was new to Canada, I introduced her to other members to help her integrate. 

She asked me where she could find an English translation of the Qur'an and, though I didn't profess Islam myself, I was happy to help her. I informed her that I worked at a local bookstore and that if she met me there on a Saturday morning, I could give her one.

A few days later, she met me at the bookstore and I gave her the Qur'an. She then asked for my phone number so I gave her it. Then she left. 

She then started to call me to invite me to her place for supper. Feeling uncomfortable with that, I proposed that we meet again where we'd first met in the interfaith youth group, but she said she didn't like that. I then offered to meet her at a Muslim youth group, but she didn't want that either. I finally invited her to meet me at a restaurant for lunch. At the restaurant, I remember her reaching out to touch my hand and me instinctively pulling my hand away as a reflex action.

After lunch, she invited me to her home, so I invited her to walk through a local park instead. After that, she again invited me to her home for supper and, tired of her repeated invitations and thinking that as a professed Muslim, she probably won't be looking for sex anyway, I finally accepted her invitation.

After supper, she begged and pouted for me to stay the night. She didn't want sex, just for me to sleep on one side of her bed in my day clothes. 

Suddenly feeling an anxiety attack, I politely said that I preferred to sleep alone at my home. She just begged and pouted all the more. 

In the midst of an anxiety attack and a fight-flight-freeze-or-comply response, and with adrenaline flooding my veins, I was no longer thinking clearly, but was starting to operate on instinct. My feminist education through school and media had taught me that physically healthy heterosexual men always want sex from an attractive woman. In other words, my refusal to spend the night at her place would communicate to her either that I was a prude, I thought her ugly, or that I hated black women.

My dad's abusive behaviour towards my mom and me, reinforced by my feminist education through school and public media, led me to perceive men as fearsome and women as fearful of male sexual aggression.

These feminist-reinforced beliefs, combined with my state of panic at that moment, led me to make an unwanted sexual advance towards her in the intent to scare her into letting me leave. 

As soon as I half-heartedly and insincerely tried to unbutton her jeans, she resisted with her hands, which I took as my queue to break off, head to the entrance, and put my shoes on to leave.

She followed me to the entrance and again pleaded and pouted for me to stay, triggering a second anxiety attack. I responded as before and she too. 

After a third anxiety attack and exhausted from the repeated adrenaline rushes, I agreed to sleep on the sofa in her living room, and then on the floor next to her bed, and finally on my side of her bed in my day clothes feeling angry and manipulated.

The next morning, she pleaded and pouted for me to promise to return to her place that evening. After some resistance and experiencing another anxiety attack, I promised just for her to let me leave but then felt an obligation to keep the promise so would return for the same vicious cycle to repeat itself each night and morning.

If I went home that evening and called her from home to try to retract my promise, she would again plead for me to go to her place and so I would go just to my promise from that morning, again for the vicious daily cycle to repeat itself.

After a week of this, I left one Saturday morning to clean my apartment, but she followed to help me clean.

After we cleaned my apartment, I invited her for a walk in a local park, returned to my apartment, and I cooked us an early supper. 

After supper, I proposed that she return home before it gets dark and hoped that the Spartan furnishings of my apartment would encourage her to leave.

She refused to leave without me. I did not want to walk her home out of a fear that she would again beg me to spend the night at her home, so, experiencing another anxiety attack, I again made an unwanted sexual advance towards her in the hope of scaring her to leave. 

Though she did quietly resist, I couldn't just break off and leave this time because now we were at my place.

Believing based on my feminist education that she must have a breaking point beyond which I could scare her into letting me leave, I unbuttoned and then unzipped her jeans, removed our pants, then our underwear, and started to spread her legs before she quietly said her first words: 'please don't rape me!'

I immediately recoiled, threw my clothes back on, stormed out of my apartment, and made it on foot and in tears to the nearest intersection before she caught up to me.

I told her that our relationship was unhealthy and that we needed to separate. 

Now in tears herself, she again pleaded for me to walk her home.

Feeling guilty about what I'd just done, I went to my apartment, locked the door, and walked her home. That evening, too emotionally exhausted, I complied without resistance with her wish for me to sleep on my side of her bed in my day clothes, now feeling guilty, angry, and manipulated, only for the daily cycle of the previous week to repeat itself again.

A day after that, as she again pleaded for me to spend the night at her place, I remember seriously considering raping her to scare her into letting me leave. I remember thinking that even if I went to prison, at least it would buy my freedom from her. What prevented me from raping her was not the fear of prison, but the fear that she would interpret it as the start of a sexual relationship, which would only escalate our already toxic relationship.

I was again made an unwanted sexual advance towards her in an attempt scare her into letting me leave, I'd unbuttoned her jeans without resistance this time. Not wanting to go any further, I broke off to leave. She followed me to the entrance and, tears flowing, started to hug and kiss me.

Paralized in an anxi attack, exhausted from the emotional sparring of over a week already, and not knowing how else to respond, I acquiesced, resulting in the start of a sexual relationship.

The relationship only became more toxic as it gradually escalated to her pointing a knife to her stomach threatening suicide if I left and refused to marry her.

After a few years of a toxic marriage, I attem sui in M in 2001.

The doctor told me based on no proof but her feminist education that I done so  an alter to killing my wife. The doctor's response reinforced my belief that a woman cannot traumatize a man unless she threatens his physical safety. 

Luckily for me, however emotionally and sexually abusive my wife was, at least she wasn't the kind to make false accusations. She just looked confused at the doctor's comment.

Seeing no help there, I left to work abroad. While abroad, I briefly struggled with alcoholism and, once I'd managed to stop drinking, started to struggle with sex addiction with prostitutes. 

A few factors prevented me from seeking professiobal help.

Firstly, in part due to the doctor's response to my suicide attempt, I denied that I could have PTSD even though the symptoms were all there, and I might also have feared how a doctor might respond to my new problem. Though I had noticed a radical change in my sexual behaviour between before I'd met my wife and after our separation and divorce, I just blamed it on myself, always dismissing the possibility of trauma as my just looking for an excuse for my behaviour. 

Secondly, the feminist messaging in Canadian society had taught me that a man who pays for sex can blame it solely on misogyny and cannot attribute it to trauma, mental illness, or anything else, as that is just looking for excuses for his behaviour. 

As a result, I blamed myself, refused to seek help, and struggled to understand the compul sex behaviour after the divorce.

After my return to Canada, once my sexual addiction was thoroughly out of control, I finally did see a therapist in desperation.

I had to quit after just a few sessions due to the conflict with my work schedule and the cost of the therapy beyond my budget. 

I finally did successfully stop paying for sex by lowering my ATM cash withdrawal limit, installing a parental control app, and other means. 

Though I finally stopped to pay for sex, a new problem appeared. I soon experienced a mental breakdown, hospitalization, and finally entry into the shelter system. I now take 80 mg of fluoxetine per day and, along with therapy, have stabilized my mood somewhat. 

The fact of the matter is though that feminist education never properly taught me how to define, assert, and defend my own boundaries. Ironically, teaching boys just to not rape women merely taught me to use sex as a defensive weapon against female sexual aggression, which encouraged my initial unwanted sexual advances against my wife.

The feminist messaging that a man's compulsive sexual behaviours can be attributed solely to mysogyny, and never to trauma or anything else c,aused me to reject for a long time even the possibility that I might have been suffering trauma, which deterred me from seeking help earlier.

I believe that more men's-rights education could teach the next generation of boys and men how to define, assert, and defend their boundaries in a healthier manner. This alone would deter much aggressive male sexual behaviour and protect men from suffering such severe trauma in the first place. 

Furthermore, it would ensure that any man who does struggled with suicidal ideation, addiction, or compulsive sexual behaviour to seek help rather than to just blame himself and keep it a secret.

I think feminists could learn much from men's advocacy on more effective ways to deter make violence against women.