Susan Dalgety

Miriam Haley’s first reaction after her former boss, Harvey Weinstein, was found guilty of rape was one of “huge relief ”.

She, and the other women who testified against Weinstein during his recent trial, had to endure a terrible ordeal in a stifling New York court for the last few weeks.

Not only did they have to relive the disgusting attacks they had suffered at the filthy hands of Weinstein, but they were then accused of lying about their trauma.

“They were consensual,” taunted Weinstein’s highly paid lawyers, suggesting the women used sex with the former movie mogul to advance their careers.

Now I am sure there are some daft, naïve, even calculating women who decide that a quick grope in the stationery cupboard or a night of cold passion with the boss will help them climb their chosen profession’s greasy pole.

But the overwhelming majority of women who are sexually attacked at work are victims of a powerful dynamic that has endured for thousands of years.

Men like Weinstein, a singularly unattractive fat bloke, use sexual assault to demean women.

They believe women are inferior to them, and that their powerful position, whether it be a Hollywood producer or a factory supervisor, allows them to force their unwanted sexual advances on whichever young woman takes their fancy.

And it is usually young women who are assaulted. Abusers like Weinstein barely register older women. They are either a mother figure to them, or “past their sell-by date”.

In recent years, the accepted wisdom has been that rape is primarily about power, not sex. I think it is about both, as in Weinstein’s case. A man who abused his authority for his sexual gratification. There are far too many of them about.

Another of Weinstein’s alleged victims, Hollyoaks actress Lysette Anthony, who says he raped her in the 1980s, told the Guardian newspaper earlier this week that the verdict was “a hugely positive message”.

“The important thing here is that these women have been believed,” she said. “That is a hugely positive message to send to anyone who has been a victim of sexual assault. All credit to the jury for seeing the truth of the situation.”

And the lawyer who is representing six British women in civil claims against Weinstein also praised the New York jurors.

“People underestimate the way in which juries can see through these things,” she said. “Lots of women don’t get to bring claims for sexual assaults, but they should.”

Of course they should, but as the singer Duffy showed us all this week, sometimes the pain of a sexual assault is just too much to bear, let alone share in an open court where your reputation will be trashed by a team of defence lawyers.

Apparently inspired by the Weinstein verdict, the former star, whose first album Rockferry was a massive global hit in 2008, revealed on social media why she had disappeared from public life for a decade. “Many of you wonder what happened to me, where did I disappear to and why…” she wrote on Instagram.

“The truth is, and please trust me I am OK and safe now, I was raped and drugged and held captive over some days. Of course, I survived.

“The recovery took time. There’s no light way to say it, but I can tell you in the last decade, the thousands and thousands of days I committed to wanting to feel the sunshine in my heart again, the sun does now shine.”

Whether the sun continues to shine for Duffy as the world’s media crawls all over her life in an attempt to find out the identity of her attacker, only time will tell, but her courage in telling her story is an example to us all.

As is the bravery of the women who testified against Weinstein, and the fortitude of every woman who gives evidence against their abusers. The #Metoo movement, which grew out of the revelations about Weinstein’s decades-long behaviour, may give some succour to the victims of sexual abuse, such as Duffy, but we should never underestimate the pain of revealing your innermost secrets.

Or the courage it takes to stand in a witness box, facing your accuser as you relive the horror of his attack. Sisters, we all owe you a huge debt.

And we also owe Labour MSP Monica Lennon a big thank you. Her private member’s bill, which would create a legal duty on the Scottish Government to make period products available free of charge “for anyone who needs them”, got through its first stage at Holyrood on Wednesday.

Don’t get me wrong. I am ambivalent about spending £24 million a year on free tampons, when a pack of 20 costs far less than a gin and tonic.

Arguably there are more urgent issues that require investment – our failing education service for one – but Lennon’s bill has taken menstruation out of the closet and onto the front pages, and not before time. It was only three years ago that the first advert for period products to show realistic menstrual blood – that is red liquid instead of blue – was aired on British television.

Bodyform’s ‘Blood Normal’ campaign was seen as a “provocative” attempt to “normalise” menstruation. As if bleeding once a month for several days at a time wasn’t