In an emotional press conference this week, Prime Minister Scott Morrison said it had been a traumatic month for many Australians, as he and the nation were confronted by the issue of violence against women. He said he had been listening to women’s stories, and would continue to do so.

We invited you to tell him your stories through the Herald and The Age. And the deluge began. Hundreds of women from across the country wrote of the traumas suffered, of feelings of shame, humiliation and fear they had endured, many for decades. They had been abused by friends, family, colleagues, strangers; in their homes, at their workplaces, on public transport, in taxis - anywhere and everywhere. Some women told of their experiences from 50, 60 years ago, for the first time. Grandmothers, mothers, daughters wondered what their lives would have been like had they not had to carry their secrets, their traumas, their shame through the years.

They are united in their desire to be listened to for altruistic reasons – they want their stories to contribute to the movement towards change that has gripped the country. They are inspired by the bravery and strength of young women like Brittany Higgins, Grace Tame, Chanel Contos and those who responded to her petition, and have told of their experiences to build on the momentum created by younger generations. They are angry because every woman has a story to tell and injustices continue. And they want to be part of what they hope will be historic change in the treatment of women in society – because enough is enough.

Thank you to all who contributed – you are heroes, and women in the future will be grateful. The Herald and The Age pride themselves on publishing the names and suburbs of our letter writers so that readers know they are real people prepared to back their opinions. We took the difficult decision of only publishing letters today with names withheld because of legal reasons. On balance we felt it was worth making an exception in order for these stories to be told. However, we have only published letters from people who were prepared to share their names and addresses with us, confidentially. And every letter published in the print edition was written by a person whose name and address has been confirmed. And a warning to readers: the letters below contain distressing content.

So, Prime Minister, are you listening? Here are our stories. Hear us roar. Pat Stringa, Letters editor

• National Sexual Assault, Family & Domestic Violence Counselling Line: 1800 737 732.
• Crisis support can be found at Lifeline: (13 11 14 and lifeline.org.au)

Our stories:

Many of us don’t speak of what we’ve suffered, conscious that other girls, other women, have endured far worse. We should not have endured any of it. I’ve been groped and harassed more times than I can count, by men I try not to remember. Lately, they’ve pushed into my thoughts again, like the stranger who, late one night, invaded my cab and cornered me in the back seat. I was a teenager. I’d hailed the cab because I was frightened by a group of men following too close behind me on a dark street. I think about the workmate who slipped his hand down my pants at the pub, the boss who interrogated me (in my first job out of university) about my sex life, the supervisor who asked for sex after writing me a reference. Each time, I felt trapped. I worried about the repercussions if I did anything but laugh it off. I felt powerless, debased. Now, I’m enraged. The Prime Minister, and those in power, must address the culture of male entitlement and disrespect that enables such behaviour, and act to improve the treatment of women and girls in this country. We will not be silent any longer. Name withheld

I was a naive 8-year-old, as all 8-year-olds should have the right to be. I also loved to play games. Who doesn’t? So when the older boys from across the street asked if I wanted to play a game, how could I have known their sinister intentions? The three pubescent boys, two the sons of a policeman, no doubt knew better but did it anyway. They egged each other on. For years I dealt with it alone. Wondering how I could be so dumb. Feeling ashamed. It was only when I was physically triggered, 10 years later, that I finally started to get some help. And someone finally gave a name to what I had experienced: sexual abuse. It took another 10 years before I got some more help, and yet I am still not fully healed. Now 30 years on, where is the justice for me and others like me? Why have those boys and so many others like them got away scot free? I’m grateful for the chance to be heard, but what I really want is for laws and law enforcement to change to make sure this stops happening once and for all. Enough is enough. Name withheld

I am a 57-year-old survivor of childhood sexual abuse, family and domestic violence. I am from a minority group with inter-generational trauma. Being interfered with by my father has put a stamp on my countenance. A man once told me that looking across a pub he could detect vulnerable women. I remember as a small child witnessing my father brandishing a large knife - threatening to kill my mother; on another occasion - coming home from school aged 6 finding Mum, having packed suitcases and fleeing though I didn’t realise this at the time. I was groped by boys at high school; raped at the age of14 (but blamed myself for risk taking).

In later life I have escaped domestic violence from several partners - only with the help of my girlfriend and stepfather – all the while still raising three teenage boys. Often the DV was subtle – isolation, mental or financial abuse. Luckily (if that’s the word) only 1 relationship ended because of actual violence. Putting this in words – I can feel like a loser. I’m now finally re-married to a beautiful, respectful man and live a peaceful life. Name withheld

I am a clinical psychologist, and across 25 years of clinical practice, I’ve worked with thousands of survivors of sexual assault and abuse – most of them women and girls. In that time, I’ve heard many survivor stories of horrific violation, grooming, assault, coercion and abuse. I have witnessed how very broken the human spirit can be, and how incredibly resilient and strong survivors are. Of the many types of trauma to which we can be subjected, sexual assault is the one most likely to lead to serious mental health problems, sometimes over decades or lifetimes. With the right care and evidence-based treatment, recovery is possible – the right “dose” of the right treatment can see women not only survive, but recover and thrive – this work brings me the privilege of walking alongside my clients as they leave the impact of trauma behind. Right now, though, an evidence-based amount of psychological therapy (40+ sessions per year for complex trauma), is only available in Australia, to the lucky, or the rich. Mr Morrison, Mr Hunt, please allow sexual assault survivors in Australia the dignity of access to the treatment they deserve: increase access under Medicare, to 40 sessions of psychological treatment per calendar year (from the current 10), so that recovery can be an option for all. Name withheld

When I was 19 – about 10 years ago – I was a flight attendant starting out at a small regional airline where I was the only cabin crew member onboard the aircraft. Pilots had (and still do) command so much power but when you’re younger, they are like gods. Part of my pre-flight checks was to ensure the oxygen bottle and crash axe were behind the pilots seats in the flight deck. One morning I went in as usual and bent over to check these items in the flight deck whilst the pilots were doing their checks. The captain had a mirror on the end of a long stick and stuck it between my legs up to see my underwear. Both pilots laughed and found this very amusing. I was upset but couldn’t say anything about it, I was humiliated and afraid ... I had to make them coffees and serve their lunches mid flight and be my bubbly self to keep the peace and to keep my job. I then spent two nights away with these men and ensured my hotel door was locked. If I’d reported that, my life would have been hell. The value of me over them was insignificant and I’d have been out of a job very quickly. This is one of many incidents – the power imbalance is astounding. It’s unbelievable how bad things are for women and it breaks my heart that my daughter’s future will be no better than mine. Name withheld

I am an ordinary, everyday female. I was not intoxicated or in the “wrong place” when I was sexually harassed. I was sexually harassed as a young girl. I was unable to understand this behaviour and was frozen in fear. I never told anyone until now. As a young woman I was harassed at a work conference. I did not report this. I quietly retreated to my room and locked myself in. I missed out on mixing socially with others from my profession. My teenage daughter and I were threatened with rape by a carload of louts. I rang the police. They came to our home to write a report. They were supportive and thanked us as there had been similar abuses in our area. Always report any instance of harassment or abuse. Recent reports have reawakened my feelings of terror and anxiety. Name withheld

I have been raped twice. The first time when I was 21. He was in his fifties and a friend of my sister. I told no one. The second time, I was 27, and woke in my bed to a stranger with a knife at my neck. I reported this to the police, but he was never caught. Add to this, multiple instances of sexual harassment, including twice by my manager. In both cases, I resigned as the only viable solution. The lack of consequence for perpetrators in both complaints handling processes and the criminal justice system is both a symptom and a cause of a culture that tolerates sexual violence in all its forms. What can government do? Why not start with a national definition of consent utilising the Tasmanian model. And set up specialist courts and processes to take account of the unique difficulties in prosecuting sex crimes. Maybe then, women might start to believe that someone is listening. Name withheld

Dear Prime Minister, When I was 16, I was sexually assaulted. The boy, a 17-year-old exchange student, followed me to the house we were using as our base during an excursion to the beach. I fought him off when he tried to rape me, so he forced me to give him oral sex instead. I didn’t tell anyone. We’d only met that day, but I thought people might think I’d led him on. I was worried people might think I was “cheating” on my boyfriend. That I was a slut.

My story is so typical I’ve never bothered to tell it. Almost every woman I know has experienced something similar – at school, at university and in the workplace. During one work event, I was groped by a colleague who put his hand in my bra and squeezed my nipple. He was a junior staff member I’d never previously met. I was warned by a friend – a senior male colleague – not to report it. “They’ll get rid of you if you make waves”, he said.

I didn’t report it, but our boss found out anyway. Nothing happened, and within a few months my abuser had been promoted and the colleague who warned me not to report is now a senior adviser to a cabinet minister.

At another work event, I was assaulted by a television personality, while a football player egged him on. I was shepherded out of the room and driven home by the host, whose primary concern was that I’d report it. I didn’t and they didn’t either. The matter ended there.

These are just two experiences among dozens, my experiences and those of my friends. There’s the high school teacher who held alcohol-fuelled parties for students, with a room available where boys could take drunk girls; my friend found herself there after drinking spiked punch and has lived with the shame ever since. Or the two male teachers “going out” with their year 11 students. Everyone knew, nothing was done.

Or the university encounter by my friend and her sister, who were wrestled to the ground by a group of male students, celebrating a football win. “They began lying on us chanting and calling us sluts,” she recalls. They only ran away when the girls started screaming and others ran to their aid. Or the incident in a Sydney street, where a group of men walked towards a friend, and grabbed her hard on the crotch, walking away smiling as if nothing had happened. Like it was a game.

We all have stories like this. It’s so common it’s hardly discussed. I’m telling you this so you understand that the matters reported in recent weeks don’t happen in isolation. This isn’t a “women problem” in one party. This isn’t a “women problem” in one workplace. This is a cultural problem and an Australian problem. You owe it to us to make change. Your daughters depend upon it. The women of Australia demand it. Name withheld

These last few weeks have been emotionally draining. It’s bought up everything from the past.

In my very first job I was told by my boss, the owner of a large company, that if I didn’t have sex with him I’d get the sack. I left of my own accord and didn’t report him. In many of my places of work I was sexually harassed by clients. I was asked repeatedly by one client to walk away from him so he could watch my bottom. I worked in restaurants and hotels as holiday jobs and was repeatedly touched and propositioned. I received abuse for rejecting the men. I didn’t report anybody. The reason I didn’t report these incidents was because I knew I would never be believed. I thought I would be blamed, and oddly when clients harassed me I protected the businesses I worked for as I knew they would lose the clients if they were reported. I never thought of myself and what I needed, I only thought of the effect on others. Name withheld

When I was 17, a middle aged man in a blue BMW followed me down a main road at night. He drove around the block to cut me off at an intersection and asked if he could pay me for sex. When I was 18, I received harassing texts about my looks from a stranger who was watching me work at my retail job. He told the police it was joke a joke but I didn’t feel safe leaving work for months.

When I was 21, a man told me he was taking the condom off during sex. I didn’t feel safe to stop him. Three months later, still 21, I was rummaging through my handbag for my keys. A man ran up behind me, put his hand up my skirt and forcefully grabbed my vagina. He ran off with his friend laughing.

When I was 32, my neighbour threw a note on my verandah telling me he’d been climbing on his roof to watch me in my apartment. He told me what he wanted to do to me and gave me his number, as if his behaviour was an inducement. I never felt safe in that apartment again. I am so angry and frustrated I’m on leave from work. This has to end and there must be change. Name withheld

He was my boss. At first he was nice, but then things changed. I never knew what mood he’d be in when I got to work. Some days he would shout and swear and everything I did was wrong. When he was in a “good” mood, he’d make inappropriate comments about my body, and touch me when nobody else could see. After a while he started asking for sex. Most of the time I let him. It was the only time I didn’t feel like I was completely useless or worthless. For a while it gave me a sense of having some control in the relationship because I had something he wanted, but I soon realised that he was always in control. I started getting flashbacks of him holding me down and me pleading with him to stop because he was hurting me. It’s just a snippet and I can’t remember when or where it was. One of my colleagues said he drugged and raped her at a party, and I’m worried that he did the same to me. Name withheld

Born in 1943 I had to put up with unwanted male attention of a sexual nature from when I was fourteen, beginning with a classmate cornering me in an outside laundry after weekend tennis, and attempting to “have a feel”. Never a drinker or a smoker, opportunistic groping and attempted mauling on the train home from uni in the 60s saw me stand up all night in a doorway light to avoid the prying hands and sloppy attempts at forced kissing and other ugly moves. This happened every term journey for four years! Lewd suggestions by taxi drivers, an attempted rape by a neighbour, opportunistic and surprise maulings by people I knew fought off, a rape by a friend of the family – he denied having done it; but also said to me it was my fault because “you shouldn’t be so pretty”. On and on it goes ... As an older woman I have still been viewed as a prospective toy – but my experienced tongue has developed a quick razor’s edge to its cooling words. Name withheld

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Three days after the Harvey Weinstein story broke in October 2017, my mum called to tell me that the man who had sexually assaulted me during a massage when I was a teenager (15 years prior) had been arrested for doing the same thing to a 10 year old girl. In court, his lawyer said “but you could have told him to stop, and you didn’t, did you? Your mum was in the next room and you didn’t call for her, did you?“. I was a shy 17-year-old girl so scared that all I could do was freeze and look at the ceiling, waiting for it to stop. I am not that 17 year old anymore, but I still feel her fear. The most painful thing has been reflecting on the impact of what happened and seeing the patterns my younger self engaged in that were harmful, especially in what I have

allowed men to do to me. A reflection on past relationships has led me to see that the loss of control over my own body while being assaulted has been actualised many times over, a realisation that causes me great sadness and distress. Name withheld

Like the majority of women in Australia, I’ve crossed the street to avoid walking past a man. I’ve clung onto car keys in my pocket and quickened my pace at a poorly lit train station. I’ve called out to a non-existent housemate from the doorway, been harassed at work, been threatened, been frightened.

In primary school, a man burst into my toilet cubicle. I froze. A classmate screamed and saved me from god-knows-what. In my teens my best friend rescued me one afternoon as we walked home from school. A man jumped off a fence and tried to grab me. She thumped him with her school bag and he fled. A few years later she was there for me again one New Year’s Eve as I was wrenched into a shop enclave. But no one could help me the time I was date raped. Eventually, I got self-defence lessons.

I want to be free to go where I want, do what I want, wear what I want and be all I can be. Every woman deserves this, as does every man. It shouldn’t matter your age, sex, religion or race. Name withheld

I was a 15 year old schoolgirl, when I had my first sexual experience over 60 years ago. On the first day of my first job, as a Christmas casual, I was sexually assaulted by the store Santa Claus in the lift. He told me he was the best mate with my boss as he groped my breasts and squeezed my nipples. I ran out of the lift when someone got in. And used the four flights of stairs every day for the next two weeks after that.

Why didn’t I report him? Who would have believed the new schoolgirl 60 years ago? Why didn’t I tell my parents? They would have made me leave the job and we needed the money to outfit me for my final two years of school. I was scared every day but managed to avoid Santa. This is the first disclosure I have made. I wasn’t raped, but it was a very frightening experience for a naive school girl.

Now I feel guilty that I wasn’t as brave as Grace or Brittany. Maybe someone else would have escaped a similar experience if I could have felt confident that I would be believed. Name withheld

Was it the babysitting male that got into a bed with me at 7, or the drunk solicitor who crept into my bed after a dinner party with my parents who decided it would be in my best interest to lose my virginity to an experienced man (I was 16) or was it the well-known hairdresser who did my hair in his office above the studio so he could grab me between my legs (I was 23) or was it the masseuse who rubbed his erection on me instead of his hands (I was 35) or was it the young man who raped my drunk daughter in college at UNSW, that finally broke the dam? No, none of them reported. Why? Because how do we prove it? Yet we remember each and everyone of you - and the trauma you left. Name withheld

These last few weeks have been emotionally draining. It’s bought up everything from the past. This story is not the only one I have, but it’s the most damaging to me. My ex-boyfriend raped me while I was asleep. In our house. I woke up while he was doing it. He then stated that “you’re my girlfriend, do you want me to sleep with someone else?” Even as I type this, I’m scared of putting my name to it. I’m worried something is going to happen. Name withheld

I do not know a single woman who has lived free from sexual assault and harassment from men. Not a single one. At 28 years old I live in a world where it is apparent that my worth and value as a woman means nothing to most men. I was first introduced to this at 12 years old. Unfortunately for me my innocence ended the moment I was unable to hide my growing breasts. Too many women have been broken and let down by systems, society, and each other. Even if I wanted to suppress my own traumas and “get over it”, my role as a psychologist means that I am presented with new stories of male violence and abuse every single day. We need change; for myself, my clients, my sister, my friends, for the ones who have lost their lives to the abuse of men and for those who are yet to come into the world. Name withheld

Sexual assault has been going on in Australia for generations. I am 82 years of age. In 1951 at 13 years of age in school uniform, I was on a crowded train in Melbourne - a country kid coming to represent my school in a sporting program. A young male came up behind me while I was standing up and started to masturbate into my rear. I was too frightened to say anything to my host family as simply had no idea what was happening. Remember this was in the early 50s - sex was not spoken about. At 19 years of age a similar experience happened while watching a Miss Australia pageant in Sale, Victoria, standing outside on a summer’s evening another young man started the same practice - this time I moved away into the crowd, silently accepting this behaviour as normal. At 21 years of age while at the movies in Sydney, sitting by myself in the dark a young make came up sat down next to me and a few minutes later started rubbing his leg against mine. I then had the courage to get up and move. Today young women would scream out like Grace and Brittiney are encouraging us to do - they are my heroes. It is going on at all levels including our institutions. A young woman said to me recently we are not walking vaginas. I hope the PM is listening from his own ears. Name withheld

I was drugged with a date rape drug and raped 30 years ago, by a business colleague, while working. I told no-one as I was too ashamed. My daughter was raped at 17 by a close friend. She reported it to the police and as I sat with her while she bravely made a formal statement, I spoke for the first time about my experience. It was traumatic but also a relief. Now I tell everyone. My 17 year old daughter taught her 55 year old mother not to be ashamed. The police who were excellent referred it to the DPP and after four years, she had her week in court. He was convicted but only received a CCO with community service which was excused due to Covid. The court case was harrowing but well worth it as we both wrestled the power back from our rapists - mine figuratively and her rapist now a convicted sex offender. I would implore all women to not be ashamed, but to be empowered and speak out and call out these sub-human men. Things will only change if more victims come forward. Name withheld

I am a 58-year-old university tutor and today I was sexually harassed by a male student via Zoom. I felt helpless and lacking in control. I did what I could to neutralise this intrusion, while trying to remain professional and continue to deliver a class to the other first year university students. I am furious with rage that a young man felt he was entitled to intrude into my classroom and degrade another person. I am enraged , but impotent. This male won’t be found, won’t be punished, won’t learn. He already believes he can do whatever he wants to a woman and unless there is fundamental change in our country, he will continue to behave in this demeaning and dehumanising way. Name withheld

I extremely gently turned down a man at a bar on Friday night. We had had a chat and he had an unusual name so he showed me his driver’s licence. Saturday night I happened to see him again at a nightclub. I greeted him and he was friendly and polite. We went our separate ways. Later that night, I was trying to leave the club and it was really packed and I passed him on the way out. We had to press past each other in the walkway. Sweaty bodies everywhere. He put his hand up my dress and aggressively put his fingers inside me. I couldn’t do anything because I was being shepherded out by the crowd. He must have been mad that I very kindly told him thanks for approaching me but unfortunately I have a boyfriend the night before. It strikes me that he didn’t even care I had seen his full name and address the night before. He obviously didn’t care about the consequences of assaulting me. Name withheld

I was first assaulted as a naive 17 year old by my boyfriend’s friend. It was so humiliating that I told no one until I was much older. I felt like I had made a mistake accepting his offer of a lift to my car behind the ANU. Only much later did I understand that I hadn’t asked to be assaulted. I was not to blame. Next incident at 27, chased by two men while out horseriding. They came within a couple of metres before I got away. I still have nightmares- I’m 63. I used to love bushwalking but now I’m too scared. I later worked at youth and women’s refuges - too many tales to share. I trained to present Love Bites in high schools on respectful relationships based on Angela Barker’s terrifying experience of brutal DV leaving her with an ABI and in a wheelchair needing 24 hour care. Out of 14 fellow female students 12 had been assaulted. Name withheld

I am 57 years of age. I have, and continue to be, abused by men in one form or another over my life. I keep to myself, and even in a new small country town, I suffer abuse. Albeit very subtly from my neighbours. It’s a generational thing here and everywhere as far as I’m concerned. Australian men are horrible. Name withheld

At the age of 68, I have a loving husband and son, good friends, and am happy with my life. This is not to say that I met my full potential. At age 7, I was “fiddled with” by a road worker. At 13, I was “dry raped” (as it was then called). In year 7, a teacher subjected me to a daily ritual of humiliation in front of my classmates, which I now understand was sexually motivated. In year 12, I skipped class all year from my favourite subject, not understanding why, till the teacher sexually assaulted me during the end-of-year celebration. Over the years, I have shared stories with my peers about the constant threat, at work, when out at night, or just waiting for a bus in full daylight for that matter, but have never mentioned the specific incidents listed above. If asked why, I’d have to say, “I don’t know”. I grew up with a seriously diminished self-esteem, did badly at school and never attended university. Fortunately, I found my way. It may not have been so. A lot hasn’t changed and I worry for young people. I hope the tide is turning. Name withheld

I was just a girl who had a friend who was a boy, who thought he could take what he wanted.

In 1973, at 17 years of age, I was raped. I had already been touched up, grabbed, kissed, prodded and leered at by more men than I can count; my dentist, family friends, relatives, boys and men alike. The fact I can say I am not unusual is a savage indictment of our culture. Despite considering myself a highly educated, privileged feminist, having run my own successful business and engaged in politics and community on very many levels, I carried the guilt and shame of my rape till this day.

I thought that having read the books, talked the talk, walked the streets and carried myself with confidence through to my sixties I had put the demons to bed. But no. Hearing the likes of Grace Tame, Brittany Higgins and the countless other young women speak their truth and talk openly about sexual harassment and rape has changed me. I am now aware of just how much shame I have carried for decades, how many secrets I have kept, how much silence and protection I have afforded the many men who have behaved appallingly simply because they could.

I stand with these young women in awe! This is a ground breaking moment for us all and I am so utterly grateful they have the courage and clarity to move this debate forward not just for themselves but carrying us all along with them. Name withheld

I am a 65 year old woman and I was first sexually assaulted when I was a preschooler by three boys next door. I didn’t have words for what happened but I knew it was bad. I felt ashamed, guilty and dirty. I have never told anyone although they boasted about it at school. As a young “liberated” woman in the 1970s I was frequently coerced and occasionally forced to have sex when I didn’t want to. Finally I was raped by my abusive partner in the 1980s. All my female friends and family with whom I have discussed sexual assault experienced coercion and assault when we were younger. Not a single woman has told me she has been free of this trauma. I am university educated and enjoyed a long successful professional career. I have been happily married for decades. If I could achieve, and my female friends could achieve, this what could we have achieved without trauma and fear as crucial elements of our beings? Name withheld

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There is no nice way to start this letter so I will just dive in. I was 7 years old when I was first sexual abused by an old man when we were on holidays in Greece. I was 11 when I was first raped by an older boy. I was 17 when I was raped again. I was 19 when I was sexually assault by the youth minister of my church. He had also been assaulting my friends over the past 7 or so years. The church turned a blind eye. That man continued to molest teenage girls for another five or so years before he was stopped. Not by the Anglicans I might add. The last time a man laid his hands on me I was in my late 20s. He shook me by both shoulders in front of the assistant minister who did nothing and told me I was over-reacting. This same man asked a couple in my bible study group about their sex life. A few years later he sent a inappropriate email to a bible study group regarding one of the female members. I called him out on it and received a torrent of abuse (of a sexual nature over several emails). I was then in my mid 30s, married to a wonderful guy, and had three great little boys. I was not going to let this be swept under the rug again. But the church did nothing. My husband later died leaving me with my now four lovely boys and everyday I teach them to respect women because no one should find similarities between mine and their own stories. Are you listening Scott Morrison? Name withheld

When I was 18 and working in the public service back in the late 80s, I was asked to work as a secretary to a consultant. This man was a good 25 years older than me and repeatedly told me he was having sexual dreams about me and making unwelcome remarks. He would phone me at work, whilst he was out and speak in a way which made me really uncomfortable. Despite having a boyfriend and dropping numerous hints, his vulgar behaviour continued. One day when he phoned in, I called over a senior female colleague and gave her the phone and she listened to him spew his unwelcome filth. This female colleague then took the matter to senior management, with my blessing. The wash up? The consultant was given an older secretary (around 55 years of age) and I got demoted to the typing pool and my wages were reduced. I totally understand why women don’t speak out as often you are financially punished for speaking up. I left this government department four years later, to work in private enterprise, after another colleague groped me inappropriately. I didn’t even bother reporting this incident. Name withheld

It was 20 years ago and I think about it daily. I am still ashamed.

When will our politicians and the media recognise that rape is not the only way that women are being systemically abused and that the smaller, less sensational issues like denying women a fair and just complaints handling process in workplaces allows the culture of disrespect and inequity to flourish that leads to men feeling they are justified in raping and covering it up?

In November of 2019, I was forced from my workplace as a teacher in a NSW government department due to a series of events that occurred after insisting on a professional relationship with my workplace manager. After losing my husband to cancer, he had actively groomed me and made me feel that due to my grief, my job wasn’t safe if I didn’t “trust him” and accept the cruel and controlling mind games he inflicted on me. I was then subjected to an unjust complaints handling process which refused to view evidence I presented, while promoting my boss to a position of very senior leadership. I had had a successful career for nearly 20 years and had been happily in one school for 17 years until I found myself in a vulnerable position.

The NSW Department of Education is a huge employer of women and should be ensuring a safe place for students and staff against abuses of power, yet those under the purview of the NSW Department of Education do not currently have access to a just, equitable complaints handling process. I have followed this through to the highest level within the Department and have subsequently brought it repeatedly to the attention of our NSW Premier and Minister for Education and Department Secretary . I keep hearing how important it is to have more women in leadership, but it’s important they stand for equity and walk the walk as well as just claiming to, as the minister says “be a voice for women”. Nice words - I look forward to politicians actually using their voice for people like me, who have suffered systemic injustice. Name withheld

Not a physical assault, but evidence of men making public places hostile for women and relishing in humiliating women. I was the only female member of a three-piece band. Between each and every song of our set at a small Newcastle pub, a man in the crowd out in the darkness repeatedly yelled out for everyone to hear, “show us your tits”. No one stopped him. No one standing near him told him to cut it out. A room of good guys did nothing. I could hear some of them laughing with him. I had no mic. Not even my band mates said anything. He saw me on stage and thought it funny to single me out and harass me to score lad points with his mates. Like women are just there to be ridiculed and humiliated for some pathetic male-bonding exercise. Maybe it’s NotAllMen, but too many self-proclaimed ‘good guys’ aren’t as good as they think they are. Name withheld

At 14 I was attacked and gang-raped by 10 boys. This happened in a mining town in country NSW. I did not consent to being raped. I screamed, fought but was powerless. From that day on I gained a reputation as a whore, because the attackers made up a story that I had welcomed it. I lived with that reputation all my life, I lived with shame, made a number of suicide attempts, and a fear and distrust of men. I told no-one because I knew it wouldn’t be believed, such was the culture at that time. I’m now 75, and I’m crying even now as I write this. There are more services now for women, but I still believe the same culture exists and the same hatred towards women. Name withheld

Twenty, assaulted by a co-worker, action taken by management - buy him a new shirt. Thirty, assaulted by a tradesman at work, action taken - “why didn’t you lock the door when you left the house”. Forty, assaulted by a family member, action taken - none, how do I tell my sister. Fifty, assaulted by “friend” at a party, action taken - none, I don’t want my husband in jail for striking back. Another family member has been convicted of rape on three occasions. He and other rapists will read these stories and rejoice (probably with “pleasure release”). It’s not about sex, it’s about power, control and a deep seated hatred of, and belief that women are “things” not people. Name withheld

I am writing to provide my story to join with all the other women who have been subject to sexual harassment and abuse. However I am not going to talk too specifically about any events – my focus is on the social attitudes that shaped the response to what happened to me.

In primary school in the early 70s I experienced abuse from a local man who exposed himself to me and wanted me to get in his car. In the later 70s as a teenager there was a man who regularly caught my train home from school who would expose himself to school girls on the train. I also had teenage boys take advantage of me and my friends at parties and other social events, not dissimilar to the stories told to Chantal Contos about contemporary events.

I was brought up in a Catholic family and went to Catholic schools where sex was rarely mentioned other than as procreation. Yong women were expected to protect themselves (not sure how) from men’s “natural urges” but we were never educated about what that meant. Young women who were sexually active were labelled as sluts and those who became pregnant were ostracised and shamefully sent away and had their babies adopted. I told my parents about the primary school event, police were called and I was interviewed but it was never spoken about again and I continued to be terrified that this man might come and kill me because we had told the police. Young people were not and are still not well prepared for the intricacies of emotional and physical relationships - for my teenage self there was a deep deep silence and fear – if a boy did something unwanted to you then you must have led him on, it was somehow your fault. I am really sad that this attitude continues on today – the recent court cases involving high profile footballers where the women involved have their reputations trashed to try and sway a jury is appalling, and we know this is common and why people do not report sexual assault as it also means a further damaging assault by the process. Name withheld

This breaks my heart to write, but it broils and bubbles like a cauldron of poison that I cannot rid myself of.

About 25 years ago I was sexually assaulted at a remote community in a regional area – police were called but it took two days for them to get there, they were professional but I perceived the attitude that I had put myself in the situation, that I was to blame. No-one was ever charged and I decided not to pursue the case given the attitude of authorities and the emotional toll that it took on me. Like so many women I am hypervigilant on a train with few people, walking across a carpark at night, always having my keys in my hand as a potential weapon. I want change and I want strong leadership to make these changes now to keep us all safe. Name withheld

In the 1950s I travelled to high school in the city by train. One one occasion a man rubbed up against me and then exposed himself. I moved elsewhere in the carriage.

More scary was the time I was walking home from the station as usual when I realised I was being followed by several young men in a car in an area where no one was about. The car drove slowly alongside and they called out but I quickly crossed to the footpath opposite. The car then drove around the block and came alongside again, so I repeated the manoeuvre until I reached the shops, fortunately only a block or so away. They then disappeared. My father picked me up from the station for the next few days in case they tried it on again.

I answered the phone at home one evening and all that came from the receiver was heavy breathing. This was repeated the next night so my father got on the phone to end it. Name withheld

As a young teenager I was emotionally and physically abused by my father and stepmother. Once they stripped, beat and cold showered me. Once he repeatedly kicked me as I lay curled on the floor in self-protection, bruising both legs black knee to hip. She watched. I asked my mother if I could live with her; she refused. She and my school did nothing. It seemed everyone thought me worth this treatment. My father was a psychologist, my stepmother a social worker. My sister was sexually abused by our stepfather when she was five. She told me when she was 21, and our mother when our younger half-sister had young children. Our mother did nothing. Several years later, at my niece’s wedding, our mother told my sister’s husband she doesn’t believe it happened. So did our half-sister. My sister severed relations with them. Because I stood by her, my mother and half-sister severed relations with me, painting us as crazy. So my sister made a police report. The investigating officers said he matched classic patterns, but there was insufficient evidence to charge him. Name withheld

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I was only young, but here I am at 65 years of age and I am still hanging onto the injustice I felt perpetrated on me as a 17 year old in 1972-1973. I grew up in the northern suburbs of Sydney. At age 16 years I left school and went to TAFE to do secretarial studies. At 17 years of age I commenced work as the branch secretary National Bank. It was my first job after leaving TAFE . I was a shy, small lovely looking young woman. I had friends, a boyfriend and family who treated me well, I knew nothing of sexual harassment, and at that time in herstory the term was not used. My story relates to the males working at the branch of the National Bank, in particular to the accountant and a teller. They would stand behind my typist chair, which just had a small back support, and press their semi-erect penis into my back, when they came over to give me work to do and linger leaning against my back. I was horrified! They would then say jokes and laugh to each other about how it felt for them. I was in the frozen state each time it happened. The other two women and males just watched on and I felt blamed for the males’ behaviour. There were constant innuendos about sex, sexuality, my looks. I just took it. Then it escalated to sexual assault when a relieving accountant who seemed to have been tipped off that I was easy pickings followed me one time down the back of the building, when I went to the stationary room, he came in, shut the door behind himself, I was trapped, he grabbed me and forced himself upon me, kissing my mouth. It was horrible, I don’t remember how I got away, but I escaped into the ladies toilet next door to the stationary room, and have a vague memory of being in shock, shaking and trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was unwelcomed, unwanted and revolting. I have blocked out his name and the details from my memory, but not the incident.

I did not tell my parents, I don’t know why, I think because of shame. That somehow I bought it on my self. I spoke to a very good girlfriend who was studying social work and she advised me to leave that job, she organised for me to work at her mother’s nursing home in Chatswood. I left the National Bank, and never went back. I loved looking after the older people, and working with other women, I went on to do my nursing training at Sydney Hospital, where we had mostly women and the beginnings of my feminist underpinnings. I felt safe. I have avoided working with men for most of my working career. I have a husband and gorgeous son, son-in-law and grandsons . I am so glad to have had this opportunity to tell someone my story. It adds to the stories, far worse than mine, but all with the same theme of male dominance and a sense of being fair game because of my femaleness. Shout it loud and shout it clear - it’s time for a change. Name withheld

Sexually assaulted when asleep in bed at a friend’s house by some random male friend of hers who had dropped over. Had to fight off another guy during a party after everyone else had disappeared and I hadn’t realised I was in danger. Constantly have had to put up with comments of an inappropriate nature. Had to listen to nearly every single one of my girlfriends’ stories - over 40 years worth - about being sexually assaulted. My new boss at harassed me for weeks to have dinner at his house when I was 18. I did not want to, but he was my boss and he would not stop harassing me. When I finally went, after dinner, he sat me down in front of his computer and turned on porn. That was terrifying. Watching this Prime Minister lie and discount women and their continued abuse. It’s bullshit that he says he cares. There’s no way I’m writing my name on this because women are not safe. Name withheld

The day Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon is imprinted on my brain. It was the day my boss raped me.

Almost 40 years ago, in a class of eight to10 males aged between 15-17, they turned the dialogue to their masturbation habits. I was teaching Legal Studies. Reporting this to the male deputy director, and expecting consequences for the students, l was told “You have done teacher training, deal with it.”

At a subsequent conversation with my head of department, l was told “lt was in his best professional interests to have a working relationship with the deputy director.” No HR department nor personnel, only payroll. Similar to Parliament House, 40 years later, where Department of Finance is dealing with current HR issues in PM Office. Name withheld

The first time was a guy in his mid 50s I guess - I was about 14 on the bus to the city to meet friends for a movie. I could feel him running his fingers up and down the side of my leg; his arms were sort of crossed over under a coat. I was alarmed but part of me couldn’t believe it was happening until he then progressed to creeping across the crease of my hip towards my groin. I was so appalled and frightened I got off the bus and cried. Many years later, a guy walked up behind me and “goosed” me from behind while I was walking home from work. I spun around, swung my briefcase at the back of his head as he retreated and called him out for the pathetic loser that he was and he ran off. I walked the rest of the way home in tears because was a grown woman and still was being treated in such an awful way, I hated feeling so vulnerable. No one has a right to touch you - girls if someone is touching you, speak up, tell that losers to “keep your hands to yourself’.′ The cowards need to be shown up for what they are. Name withheld

Sexualisation/ harassment started from 11 with catcalling almost daily. Other incidences have been: being followed home and cornered by a male stranger; being surrounded and detained by eight men while jogging; being ground against by a male stranger from behind while jogging; being stalked by a male stranger at university; my male oncologist telling me before breast cancer surgery that “if I was going to get raped, I may as well enjoy it”; a male doctor telling me (age 18) that my breasts were (aesthetically) ‘perfect’ during a physical examination; being kissed while walking down the street by a male stranger in the middle of the day on a main road; being asked by male strangers in a passing car to show my ‘pink bits’; being tailed in the evening by a car full of male strangers when walking and being targeted by a male driver masquerading as an Uber driver in an attempt to get me into his car. And multiple multiple hard to label micro aggressions from men, constantly. Name withheld

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I was first abused when I was five. By my paedophile uncle. I was his fifth victim that I’m aware of. Basically all the kids in my generation were abused by him. When I was 14, a 27 year old man took me to a secluded place. He forced my head down onto his penis, making me perform oral sex. There was no point running or screaming as there was no one to hear me. I was surrounded by bushland. I wanted to get home. When I was 17, I went to a social function arranged by a sporting organisation. A group of us stayed at the house of one of the more senior people in the organisation. I woke with the man who’s home we were in, in my bed. His fiancee was in the room next door. When I tried to speak up, I was accused of being the instigator. I was not believed. I was then labelled a slut within the organisation. He was at least 10 years my senior. When I was 24 I had one night alone in a hotel room overseas, I awoke to a male staff member letting themselves into my room, I yelled at him. He said he was filling the mini bar at 3am. I now always use the door bolts on hotel room doors. Name withheld

Firstly, I admire the courage of those who have shared their experiences. These are mine: At 15 at a party, my drink was tampered with. The last memory I have was locking the bedroom door to go to sleep, alone. I woke up to a ‘friend’ assaulting me. I froze, in fear. Weeks later I heard a rumour that I apparently slept with another ‘friend’ at the same party. I have no recollection of this, nor most of the night. I was a virgin.

At 17, a guy grabbed me at schoolies, kissed me, touched me, and wouldn’t let go. I pushed but wasn’t strong enough.

At 20, a stranger assaulted me at a nightclub, police were called, but I dropped all charges. I didn’t want to go to court, be cross-examined and have our names associated.

At 23, as a new graduate, a colleague assaulted me at a Christmas party. Again, I froze.

Since I was 20, I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t go to nightclubs, I don’t wear low neck/cut-out and tight clothes, and I’m always home early. I’m now 30, and I’m uncomfortable being alone at night, especially around guys. I still blame myself. Name withheld

When I was 9 turning 10, I was sexually abused by a boy about seven years older than me who, with his family, were neighbours and good friends of my family. I of course had great trust in this boy and I did not demur when he invited me into the children’s playhouse. He did not rape me or hurt me in any way and in fact was gentle. But it should not have happened. When some weeks later he again invited me to go for a walk with him something inside me made me say “no”. I knew nothing at all about sex but something told me I did not want to go. He accepted my decision without any problem. He went on in life to become a well-known and influential person in the work he did. I went on to secretarial work and enjoyed my not so influential life. In my 50s, I had to deal with him again in my work on some occasions. We talked politely and civilly on the phone. I have no idea whether he remembered the “incident” and I would in no way have mentioned it - I think this might be because of the generation in which we grew up. I did not really raise this with friends until my early 60s at which time people were beginning to discuss these matters.