In the media over the last few days, it will have been hard to have missed the sexual assault allegations against film industry magnate, Harvey Weinstein. There has been an outpouring of response to this maybe-not-so-shocking news, including from Mayim Bialik, an actress who I have had the utmost respect for, especially given her educational standing.

She came out and said that because she was not a 'perfect ten', a feminist who refuses to go on diets or dress provocatively, that she was lucky enough to have escaped the unwelcome attention of predatory men.

Another response to the Weinstein scandal had been the #metoo movement. Women coming together and posting their stories of sexual harassment and assault on social media with the hashtag, “me too”.

When I first read about what Mayim Bialik had said, I had just posted, “Me Too” on my own Facebook page. I was shocked; several of my own experiences run counter to what Ms. Bialik was describing.

I myself am a young scientist, a feminist who refuses to go on diets or dress provocatively. Although I am attractive, I am far from a perfect ten. And yet, none of those things have ever stopped unwanted advances from men who are so often complete strangers.

My stories of harassment are nowhere near the magnitude of some that I have seen, but that does not mean that they didn’t change me or shape who I am as a woman. It’s been happening to me since I was even too young to realize what was inappropriate about it. It has never mattered what I looked like or what I wore.

It happened in middle school when I wore jeans and baggy t-shirts every day. It happened in high school when I discovered my femininity and love of dresses. It has happened in college when I was wearing jeans and boots under my white lab coat.

It has never mattered that I’m extremely intelligent and outspoken (especially about women’s rights), or that I’ve never been on a diet in my life. Harassment isn’t about the beauty or personality of the woman, it’s about the harasser being in control.

When I posted my “Me Too” status, I joined legions of women who have survived and even thrived in spite of this attempt at control. The numbers were astonishing in a very sad way, but there is a comfort in standing together; a strength in these numbers that will change the world.

Hopefully, this visibility is the spark that our culture needs in order to make a change. Hopefully, the astonishment that I felt seeing old teachers and friends’ mothers posting about their experience will only bolster the determination to be recognized as equal human beings that is so clear in the women of my generation. We won’t--we can’t--back down now.