The cost of that is in situations like when I was in year 11 at high school. I went with my friend to a doctor's appointment and I sat down with her in the waiting room, distracting her with a quiz in a Dolly magazine. As soon as we got into the office, she burst into tears, and it was up to me to explain to the GP why we were there. I told this GP that my friend had been working in a cafe for three months. Her manager had started hugging her on the first day that she was on the job. He would text her at random times of the night. He would hold her hand while he gave her the best shifts in the roster. He would hold her arm while in front of customers. One night, when he was dropping her home, he pulled up on the side of the road and undid his pants. We were in the waiting room of the doctors, waiting for an appointment because my friend was worried she was pregnant. It was the GP who told these two 15-year-old girls in our school uniforms that this was sexual harassment at work, among other things. As she organised tests and medication for my friend, the GP told me that we could get help for someone who had been harassed so severely at work. She wrote my friend a letter confirming the medical exam and she told us that she'd give evidence if my friend wanted to take it further. But my friend never did take it further. She felt shame and so much embarrassment, even to this day, about her own naivety. But I look back on that and see someone who couldn't get away from a manager who was acting publicly like he owned her.