Because I Was Assaulted Years Ago I Still Can’t Hike in the Woods and Not Be Scared

I was attacked in a park by a man over 25 years ago, and my fear of being attacked again still lingers today.

This past August, my children and I traveled to rural Virginia to be with my boyfriend while he participated in a creative workshop at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg. We stayed at a house in the middle of the forest, and while my boyfriend was busy all day long with his work at the university, I took my boys on hikes.

This was a wonderful opportunity for my sons. We live in an urban part of Los Angeles, and so being immersed in a forest was something special.

But even then, my attack in a wooded area of Madrid over twenty-five years ago still haunts me today.

While walking down a road outside Madrid, just as dusk was falling, a man overtook me from behind. He swung out his arm, knocking me to the ground. I was successful in fighting him off by kicking my legs violently in his direction. I must have gotten him in the groin because he limped away.

He left me alone. I was simply too difficult to rape.

I’ve never forgotten the experience, though, and for years afterward, I was nervous to even walk by myself in broad daylight. I was always looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was following me. No men.

So here I was, over twenty-five years later, on vacation in the forest in Virginia. I wanted to take advantage of all the hiking I could do with my sons.

The first hike I took my boys on led us deep into the forest. The farther in we hiked, the more I wanted to go back. I had to talk back my fear.

We were all alone in the middle of nowhere. Probably nothing would happen to us. We would encounter no one — no big, bad man would jump out of the woods to try to rape me again, this time in front of my sons.

We were miles away from any major city. I was successful in talking back my fear. I told myself everything would be okay. We would be fine. We were safe.

But still, anxiety overwhelmed me on every hike I took my sons on. How would I protect them if some man appeared? What would I do if this man wanted to hurt me? What would be the long-term effects on my sons if they witnessed me get raped?

I shouldn’t have even had to think such tragic, morbid thoughts. But I had to because: men.

Men attack. Men assault. Men rape. Men commit grievous bodily harm to women.

All. The. Time.

As the week wore on, some of my initial anxiety slipped away. I found myself relaxing and becoming more comfortable hiking alone in the woods with my nine- and ten-year-old sons.

But still I never totally relaxed.

One time, we found ourselves on a trail that led up a mountain toward a waterfall. We hiked over streams and up the trail until one of my sons started to complain.

It was hot, and he was covered in bug bites. We stopped so that he could dip his legs into the brook’s cool water.

But then I heard twigs crunching. Someone was coming. Two men. I hadn’t seen them behind us. We were totally alone but for them.

The men weren’t even dressed for hiking. They weren’t wearing boots and they weren’t carrying a backpack. They looked like two regular dudes in nylon shorts and T-shirts. Instead of quelling my fears, that just made me more suspicious.

Maybe they’d been following us the whole time with the intent to harm.

I was seated on a big rock as the men descended on us. My sons continued to play in the shallow water, jumping from one rock to the next.

As the men approached, I straightened my spine and pushed back my shoulders. I placed my body in an empowered stance. I didn’t smile at the men. I locked my jaw and stared them down.

“Do you know how much farther to the waterfall?” one of the men asked me.

“Nope,” I said, refusing to engage. I didn’t want to come off as friendly so the men would hang around.

They didn’t. They kept on, hiking right past us.

I retracted my claws. These men had posed no threat. They were simply out enjoying the same hike they were. They had no intention to do me any harm.

But I still couldn’t relax. Once you’ve been attacked once, you’re never the same.

And now as a mother, with two children under my care, I feel like I have to be even more vigilant.

I wish I could just enjoy a hike through the woods with my boys, but I can’t because: men.

What if the man was waiting for a moment just like this one? What if he appeared out of nowhere and attacked me right in front of my sons?

Another day, I took my kids to a hiking area located inside the town of Blacksburg. The hike wound past an old coal mine through the forest for several miles on a loop.

We’d visited the park already on a different day, but my eldest, enjoying seeing the coal so much, asked to return.

This time we visited the park at six-thirty p.m. This was much later than the first time we’d come. Though it wasn’t dark yet, it was still rather late to be setting out on a hike.

There were no other cars in the parking lot when we arrived. As far as I knew, we were the only ones in the park.

We set out toward the entrance of the trail. That’s when I saw a man loitering there. As we walked past him, he and I made eye contact. He didn’t look at me as lecherously as the man had before he attacked me in the woods outside Madrid, but still this man was hanging out at the entrance of a wooded trail that I was heading onto alone with my two sons.

Though his presence made me nervous, once again I talked back my fear. Once again I refused to be held back from this experience because of some man.

My sons and I hiked down the trail, passing through a meadow until the trail ducked under the trees.

The trees formed a canopy over us, and the forest became significantly darker. Insects buzzed in the air and crawled on every surface. The temperature dropped a few degrees.

My eldest, spotting a mound of coal, wanted to stop. He knelt to poke at the coal with a stick.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself, totally oblivious to any danger lurking in the forest. My other son’s major concern was that the insects kept biting him.

My major concern was that man back at the entrance. Had he followed us on the trail?

What if the man was waiting for a moment just like this one? What if he appeared out of nowhere and attacked me right in front of my sons?

What if? What if? What if?

It was late. We shouldn’t be in this forest alone at this hour. My nerves overwhelmed me.

“We should go back,” I told my eldest, who was still investigating the coal deposit.

“No, I’m having fun,” he said.

“Come on,” I pleaded, “let’s go back.”

He wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t want to be here alone so late,” I said.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” my younger son said, swatting insects from his skin. “Okay, let’s go back.”

“No,” my eldest said, still playing with the coal. “I don’t want to go.”

“We’re going,” I seethed, losing my cool. “We have to go now!”

At least I’d finally gotten his attention. My sons both knew something was wrong. If nothing was actually wrong, as we were still all alone, they both now knew that I was uncomfortable.

We hiked back through the forest until we reached the meadow again. There was no sign of the man from the entrance. There was no sign of anyone.

My fear was unfounded. The man hadn’t followed us. No one had followed us. We were safe.

When we reached the entrance of the trail again, the man was still there. He was seated now, on a bench, watching a video on his phone. It must’ve been comedic because he was chuckling. He didn’t even look up at us as we walked past.

He’d never been a threat. Yes, I had overreacted, but only because my experience years ago still affects me today.

One bad experience has completely changed how I view the world. And now I can’t go on a simple hike with my kids through the forest without fearing I’ll be attacked.

What kind of world do we live in where we allow men to treat women like this? Are women’s lives worth so little that men don’t deserve to be punished for such crimes?

Sometimes I try to put myself into a man’s shoes. Namely, I try to put myself into the shoes of the type of man who would rape a woman. What kind of sick soul would attack a woman as she walked alone, tear off her clothing, penetrate her with his penis, thrusting into her, ejaculating, then running off?

And what type of debauched creature would encounter a woman in a compromised position, say drunk or passed out, and then find arousal in that, lower his trousers, penetrate her unconscious body, and climax?

And more, who would expect to get away with committing an act like that?

But men get away with doing such things to women all the time.

What kind of world do we live in where we allow men to treat women like this? Are women’s lives worth so little that men don’t deserve to be punished for such crimes?

Yes, I overreacted about being alone in these wooded areas with my sons during our trip to Blacksburg. But after suffering an attack myself, I will never fully relax when hiking alone again.

And while men continue to rape women, women everywhere will continue to fear for their well-being.