Little by little, women are finding their place in the Ukrainian armed forces. Yet opposition remains strong, especially when it comes to sending them to the front lines, where danger and uncertainty are ever-present. Even so, it seems almost certain that women will be fully mobilised — they are a powerful force in Ukraine’s fight against the Russian invasion.
I joined in 2019. On one of my very first days, before the battalion had even been officially formed, I happened to overhear a conversation among the soldiers. “There are a whole bunch of girls in the third company now,” a young sergeant remarked, his tone a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “And the 24th [brigade] is already turning feminine,” another soldier chimed in.
I was the fifth woman in my company, which then had 44 people. At the time, the brigade was no more than 10% female. That was when I first encountered a strange cognitive distortion: when the share of something seen as unusual — or even unwelcome — starts to grow, people quickly begin to feel as if there’s far too much of it.
Sometimes this prejudice came out in comments like: “There aren’t as many women in the army as people say [in the media].” In such cases, it’s a double bias: the person ignores the fact that there are enough women in the Ukrainian army to make their contribution visible; and out of the wide range of reporting on the armed forces, they focus only on the stories they dislike or consider inaccurate.
Unfortunately, the subject of women in the army remains both controversial and sensitive. I have rarely met soldiers — or civilians — who view female service members as they should: neutrally, without focusing on their gender, but instead on their skills and achievements.
People often assume women join the military “just to find a husband.” Those without children are accused of not wanting any, while those with children are blamed for abandoning them — and other supposed mortal sins. Such is the nature of our society, with its stubborn misogyny. Yet the cracks are beginning to show, and the number of women in Ukraine’s armed forces is steadily growing: from 49,000 in 2014 — including 16,000 in non-combat roles (it’s worth recalling that women were barred from combat positions until 2016; in 2018, all gender-based legal restrictions were finally lifted) — to around 70,000 women in 2025, more than 5,000 of them serving directly on the front line.
Their motivations are as diverse as their stories, but they all share one thing in common — those women signed up voluntarily. There has never been a single case of forced mobilisation of women in Ukraine. Some feel a deep sense of duty to their country, others are motivated by the pay; some are young and still searching for their place in the world, others seek to avenge fallen friends, and some simply want to fight alongside their husbands.
In truth, all these motivations — except perhaps the last one (I’ve yet to meet a man who joined the army to follow his beloved) — are just as common among male volunteers. Yet no one picks them apart.
Men are assumed to be good soldiers by default, until they show otherwise. Women, on the other hand, confront prejudice and obstacles at every turn. I’m certain that every one of the roughly 5,000 women on the front line has had to prove — just as I once did — that she has the skills, determination, and drive to earn her place there.
The authorities have been postponing the question of general mobilisation for women for as long as possible. But I don’t believe they can avoid it forever, not in the circumstances we face now.
I support the mobilisation of healthy women who are not weighed down by domestic responsibilities — children, elderly parents, sick relatives — and who meet the age requirements. It’s a logical stance: in nearly five years of service, I’ve seen for myself that military work isn’t dictated by biological sex. Women are a formidable resource, fully capable of bearing the responsibility of defending their country, just as men do. But nothing about that is ever straightforward.
First, the new recruits will need the right uniforms and gear. Some progress has already been made in this area: before my maternity leave in 2024, I had the chance to see and try on the new women’s uniform, including the underwear. It wasn’t particularly comfortable — it was hard to understand why the jackets were shorter, the trousers narrower, and the sports bra made of such thin fabric. And even this women’s uniform doesn’t reach everyone. Many servicewomen still get handed men’s gear and have to tweak it themselves — at their own expense, of course.
Second, the new recruits need to be trained — and trained thoroughly enough to become fully competent. This calls for a change in approach, taking into account that women are generally physically less strong. Alternative solutions must be found to achieve the same results, rather than throwing up one’s hands and asking, “What can you expect from these women?”
I also think it would be fairly straightforward for the rather rigid military system to swap men for women in all — or almost all — administrative roles. The real obstacles aren’t structural, they’re in people’s heads. For years, the army was a completely male world, with just a few women on the sidelines — and that worked for everyone, until the war. I’d even go so far as to say, until the full-scale invasion began in 2022.
All-female units, on the other hand, are a fantastic idea. I fully back the first one, called the “Harpies,” which is currently recruiting fighters. I hope they push through every challenge and become as effective as they possibly can.
