Rachel Layer survived a violent attack. Now, she shares her story—and encourages all girls to seek their strength.

My dog was barking—but what else was new? Oliver is a cairn terrier, so it’s one of his favorite things to do. I quickly let him out, then grabbed a pillow, blanket and book and headed to the couch to relax for a little bit before bed.

I was cozied up reading for less than five minutes when Oliver started barking again. “Sssh!” I scolded him once. He kept barking. Before I could shush him a second time, I felt a hand cover my mouth and a man grab me from behind.

I immediately knew that this was a stranger—and that I was in a lot of trouble. As he hit me in the face, all I could think was that this was the end for me. I was going to die. There were no profound thoughts, no calculated plans to escape my attacker.

A few years earlier, I had held my mom as she passed away from oral cancer. From that experience, I have a strong belief that there is peace in death. So the thought of dying didn’t scare me—but the thought of dying this way did.

My body went into survival mode and I started fighting. From lying flat on my back on the couch, I managed to get to my feet—looking down at the floor as he held a firm grip on my hair. I screamed and screamed. He told me to stop, but I screamed louder.

I was finally able to push him off and get enough space between us to reach the front door. It had two locks on it and I wasn’t wearing my contacts—but I opened it quickly. I never looked back at him.

As I sprinted barefoot to the street, I don’t remember my feet hitting the ground. I kept on screaming, but I never thought anyone would hear me. I found out later that I had woken everyone on my street—multiple calls went in to 911 immediately.

A neighbor four houses away said his 16-year-old son was shaking, claiming to never have heard something so horrible. I’ve never considered myself a loud person, but that night I found my voice.

FEELING FREE
The summer before the attack had been a really meaningful one for me. I traveled to Ponza, Italy—the place my great-grandfather lived before he came to America, and a place that my mom had always dreamed of visiting.

A few years earlier, I had taken a year off from school to help my dad care for my mom before she passed away. But that summer I fulfilled her dream, graduated from my master’s program, ended a five-year relationship and returned home to start the next chapter in my life at a new job. 

It was definitely a season of growth and change for me. And by the time September rolled around, I was feeling great—working hard, training for a marathon, traveling on the weekends and enjoying my freedom.

“One in six women in America will be the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime—a statistic I never would have believed until I became a part of it.”

FIGHT AND FLIGHT
The day of the attack started like any other Saturday that fall. I was supposed to coach a soccer game in the morning, but it was canceled—so I went on a long run instead. By evening, I was exhausted. And that’s when I decided to crash on the couch.

The man who attacked me was able to escape without being caught, and no one has been charged or my home invasion, assault and attempted rape. Right next to the sofa where I had been lying he left my wallet, cellphone and computer untouched. The police believe the only thing he was after was me.

A few days later, a man was arrested in a nearby town for attacking two women. He was on parole for another violent crime. The district attorney and investigators in my case believe that this is the man who followed me home from running earlier that morning, then waited until I was alone before breaking into my home and assaulting me. But it’s unlikely that I’ll ever know for sure.

FINDING MY FOOTING
The month after the attack was the toughest. I couldn’t sleep well. I was nervous whenever I was alone. I went from loving my independence to feeling afraid all the time. Running—once my favorite, most therapeutic thing to do—now seemed like a risk. I considered moving far away. I literally looked at jobs in Alaska.

But with the support of family and friends who encouraged me to stay active, I started taking boxing, self-defense and mixed martial arts classes. The goal was always to teach me how to get out of a tough situation, not how to become a fighter. We focused on techniques for escaping a hold and throwing a solid punch. With each lesson I felt my confidence and sense of security grow; after every session I felt stronger.

As I began reading more about survival, I realized I wanted to help other women not only stay safe, but learn from my attack and find the same sort of strength that I was working to develop. This is where Rising Strength began. 

A SECOND CHANCE
More than anything, I didn’t want to waste what I consider to be my second chance at life. Rising Strength originally started as a blog to simply raise awareness, but it quickly evolved into so much more.

I speak at schools, host self-defense workshops for women and connect with survivors. I feel extremely lucky to have been able to get away from my attacker, and understanding that fear is what motivates me to help empower and protect as many people as I can.

I think of every person I reach as a victory. After every talk, women and men have shared their own stories of violence, rape and pain with me—sometimes speaking out loud about it for the very first time. While it’s heartbreaking to hear, I’m so grateful that I can be a part of the healing process for others.

And I’ll never forget when I heard from a girl who saw a man entering her home and, although she felt paralyzed with fear, had heard my story and knew she needed to react immediately. She got out of the house and the man was sent to jail. We have a long way to go. The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network reports that one in six women in America will be the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime—a statistic I never would have believed until I became a part of it.

I’m going to keep sharing my story and working to keep women safe until those numbers change. I encourage girls everywhere to get involved in our fight and be proactive in their personal safety.

For some, maybe that means boosting confidence by taking a self-defense class. Or maybe it means understanding that bad things do happen—but if we can be prepared for them, we can help prevent them.

And for me? It means I’m still running. But now I’m not running away from anything.

Rachel Layer is an athlete, advocate and survivor. In addition to speaking at several schools and hosting a women’s retreat last fall, Rachel ran a 100k ultra marathon to raise funding for the Oral Cancer Foundation. Find out more at risingstrength.com.

This article originally appeared in the October/November 2016 issue of Girls' Life.