It was only the next day, when a male colleague took me aside, to tell me about a situation that he'd "handled" because he thought I would soon hear about it anyway, that I learned I was the subject of their laughter. Or more accurately, my crotch was. They'd been filming, when someone decided it would be a fantastic idea to zero in on my pinstripe-panted groin region, in its first, and hopefully only, extreme close-up. I didn't know what to do, so I laughed it off. After all, everyone else was. I was told it wouldn't go any further, that it was just guys blowing off some steam. I wasn't sure how to take it further, even if I wanted to. I, like every other female journalism student, had heard a tale of a woman who'd attempted to address an uncomfortable situation, or whatever else you want to label sexism, and lost, even when they won. So instead, I did nothing. My time finished in that region, and I left. But the scars, the discomfort, it came with me. I've rarely worn trousers to work since.

Not that it matters. In the decade-and-a-half since then, I've been called a "temptress", a "nice sort", "bewitching", asked out and had my appearance commented on more times than I can count. All while I've been at work, just doing my job. I've been told it's surprising when I go after a tricky or uncomfortable line of questioning, because I look "like such a nice, sweet girl", despite having reached my majority many, many, many moons ago. My time finished in that region, and I left. But the scars, the discomfort, it came with me. I've rarely worn trousers to work since. I've had men I come into contact with in the various rounds I've covered - general, police, court, politics, to name a few - comment to other colleagues about my appearance, my level of attractiveness, or what I'd need to do to be attractive in their eyes.

I've become better at addressing it, either with a dressing down, or a frank discussion about why their comments are inappropriate. This is not about whether I am attractive or not, or even whether I think I am. But I know that there will be those who ignore everything else to make it about that. It's why I hesitated to write this. Why I, and so many others, stay silent, take the high road, keep on being those good sports women are so often told to be, just to get by. I know the flip side of challenging those comments, or rejecting advances. But when the trolls come out, and they will, just to tell me how unattractive they find me, it will also only prove my point. While doing my job, I've also been called an "ugly fat bitch", or variations of, told I have a problem with men, that I'm a slut, that I'm "one of those women who want to crush all men because you hate them", that I'm desperate for a man, but just can't get one (because: ugly, fat bitch/slut), threatened with violence and gang rape, and told I just need a good "rogering to loosen up a bit". Because simply existing as a woman and expecting equality on the job must actually just be about my appearance, success with men, how I appear to men. Silly me.

At a recent Reclaim Australia rally, when debating what constituted balanced reporting with a xenophobic, and frankly racist supporter of the Reclaim crowd, I was referred to as "love", then dismissed because he was "speaking to the men", and informed that if I just smiled, I'd do wonders for my rather plain features. My male colleague, who had been the original target for his annoyance, was only challenged on the job he did. The vile emails which followed the story on the rally all focused on my appearance and my gender, threats and comments no male colleague ever receives, and certainly not in the same volume. Like every other journalist, I go to work, to work. Not to be judged on how I look, to please the men around me, to act as the butt of their jokes. Because it's not funny. It's not a compliment to be stripped back to your sex, and have your gender define everything you do. It's not a bit of fun to make a woman feel uncomfortable, because you can't see past how she'd be in bed. And if you can't see that, can't see how those 'jokes' are part of a bigger issue, then you are part of the problem. It's been a long while since women were considered the property of men, but shades of that attitude still greet us every single day.

Wanting to be treated the same as male colleagues, and not have their appearance or sex dominate their professional interactions doesn't make women manhaters/ugly/bitches/witches/cows/ promiscuous/desperate/hags/in need of a man/ or anything else which gets slung women's way, when they don't just smile and take it. It makes them human. If you can't see that, what does that make you? Stay informed. Like the Brisbane Times Facebook page