As young women growing up, we are taught to be careful, to avoid certain situations, people, outfits, to limit the things we do and the space we take up, not to walk home alone, not to drink too much, not to act in a way that would bring unwanted attention, and when you're out with friends, keep your hand over your drink, and don't leave a drink on the table if you're going to the ladies' or to the dancefloor, not because we're worried about someone taking the drink, but someone spiking it, putting something in it that'll turn the night into a nightmare. Because that is what we are taught. We're trained to anticipate danger, to navigate fear, to live our lives in ways that are framed by that potential peril, and this is where there is an inevitable societal experiential divide, because all of these things that I've mentioned will be astonishingly familiar, banal even, to all of the women listening, but for men, doing something like this would understandably be alien, because as a society we place the onus on women to keep themselves safe, not on men to stop attacking women.

I think there's merit in a lot of the ideas put forward in the motion—in the Night Time Industries Association's ideas about providing bottle stoppers and drinks covers free of charge for customers in pubs and bars—but taking an action like that alone is only masking the problem. Likewise, I would further welcome raising the awareness of the public about the dangers of drink spiking and looking into more funding for vulnerability training for bouncers and bar staff. But ultimately, Dirprwy Lywydd, we're still talking about containing and not eradicating the problem.

The odds are stacked against survivors of spiking. Toxicology tests have to be carried out within 12 to 72 hours, but often the drugs that are used are hard to notice—they have no scent, no taste, no colour. By the time the survivor has reported what's happened, they've often disappeared from the body. What's more, survivors of spiking have spoken about the mental gymnastics they have to go through, going back and forth between the police and hospital services to get the tests. Too often survivors feel dismissed by the police or feel like they're not being believed—something we've already heard in the debate this evening. Our call on the Welsh Government is to work with hospitals and police forces to ensure there's a standard practice in how incidents like this are reported and dealt with. Survivors must be better supported.

Dirprwy Lywydd, I refuse to accept that navigating danger should be an indelible part of life for women. There is nothing intrinsic about male violence against women, about threats to women's safety. We are conditioned to accept that the risk is there and to act accordingly. So for now, yes, of course we should raise awareness, we should provide support and look into providing bottle stoppers and drinks covers and other means of helping women feel safe, but women won't actually be safe until we get to the bottom of the issue and confront why it is that some men grow up to spike women's drinks, to follow women home, to harass them on the streets, to catcall, to abuse women online, to attack women, to silence them. Covering up a drink can't eradicate the problem, a problem that is so everyday that we've stopped even acknowledging that it shouldn't be normal, the problem that means that when women go out in the evening there is an unreferred to expectation that we will text our female friends when we're in the taxi, when we've reached home; the shared experiences none of us want to have, but yet still link us. Policy and politics shouldn't have to think of minimising an ever-present risk. The risk shouldn't be normal.