Now most likely, the tweeter is not directing this question to people like me. Most likely, the tweeter does not mean this to be an accusation... but it got me reflecting on that moment. Why didn't I speak up?

I am supposedly a strong, intelligent woman. By no means a shy, vulnerable type. I'm highly educated, articulate and confident. Over the past few days my stomach has been churning with guilt; chastising myself over and over about not having said anything given what we now know. Why didn't I? Would it have changed anything?

Clammy hand on my back; breath hot in my ear: "Come back to my room with me". Instantly, my skin crawls and for a split second, I freeze. Hand grips mine: "Come back to my room". I try to pull my hand away. He tells me where he is staying and his room number. "I'll leave you a key. Come back to my room". How do I get myself out of this situation without causing a scene?

It's a scene etched in my memory that I thought I had long buried until it was brought crashing back this week. I have revisited that scene over and over again. It was some time ago, and I cannot say with 100 per cent accuracy the exact words spoken. But what I do remember is my thought process and how it made me feel.

My immediate reaction was shock... and disbelief. Surely I've misunderstood! He's one of the most influential men in my profession; one of the most influential men, indeed, in the country.

Then it was "how do I get myself out of this situation without causing a scene?" Nice girls don't cause scenes. Nice girls don't create a fuss. Then it turns to self-doubt. Did I do anything that gave off any indication I wanted to be propositioned in that way? Then, it's dismissal. I've had much worse. He was drunk. He was just trying it on. I didn't actually say the word "no". And in the days after, it's loneliness. No one else will understand; no one else went through it.

While it's easy for those on the sidelines to cry "why didn't you speak up?" - no matter how well-meaning it is - there are myriad complex reasons as to why so many of us do not.

Because in learning you're not alone, you understand how powerful it is to use your voice.

That moment seven years ago is certainly not the worst experience I have had with sexual harassment. It is a sad reality that when events this week caused me to reflect back on this particular experience, that after the initial shock and recoil, I dismissed it as mild in the spectrum of behaviour I have encountered in my adult life; from insensitive, overly sexualised comments made ("in jest") in the workplace through to a separate incident which I now realise was sexual assault at (literally) the hands of a trusted professional.

My initial downplaying of this experience is, in itself, part of the problem. When do unwarranted, unwelcome and persistent sexual advances become unacceptable?

READ MORE:

Where do you draw the line between a cheeky comment to calling out unacceptable behaviour?

How many times does "inadvertent and unintended" conduct have to be rebuffed "politely" before it becomes a predatory action that has no place in our society?

There are no easy answers, and this is not a new debate. In fact, he will probably have his day in court - as he should - to try and tell his answers to these questions.

As a mentor to many young girls in my community, I have tried to encourage and support them to develop the courage to speak up when it matters most. Seven years ago I didn't feel I could. In seven years' time, will I be able to look myself in the eye if I let this slip by a second time?

I am in a position of having a voice that is probably going to be listened to; it is a powerful tool that I am privileged to have that many others do not. But I did not always have this voice. And finding your voice is one thing, but feeling empowered to use it at the right time takes another level of courage.

A courage that I did not have at the time.

It is not easy to speak up. It is also not easy to stay silent. But I would much rather speak up now - seven years later - than not at all, and do my small part to encourage others to stand with me.