Like ABC journalist Ashleigh Raper, who made an extraordinarily brave statement accusing NSW Opposition Leader Luke Foley of sexual assault, I grew up around political circles. On the first (and yes, there were several) occasion I was groped by a politician, I was 19-years-old. Despite being a law student at the time, it never occurred to me there was legal redress available. This was a decade before #metoo. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, my primary concern was making sure people didn’t find out. I wanted to be taken seriously in politics, not dismissed as the girly-plaything of men.

In not reporting what happened, I didn’t consider the potential other women who might have been subject to the same lewd behaviour. I didn’t dwell on what it said about the character of an elected official and whether such things ought to be made public. Besides, the inappropriate actions of this man – and others like him in Canberra – were an open secret. I reasoned to myself that it wasn’t exactly news that I was his latest victim. Many others had gone before me and not kicked up a fuss. So, I shut that shit down as quickly as possible; discreetly made it stop, went home, had a shower, moved on.