Ukraine Diaries: Ria

Who am I? In my soul, I am a little girl with pink hair, a dancer, a writer, and now… a soldier. Did I ever want to be her? No way! Did I ever think there would be a war in my country? Of course not. This is a relic of the past. Erased pages of history with streams of blood. We splash in them, trying to escape.

I joined the ranks of the Territorial Defense on the 25th of February, 2022. I thought it absolutely logical that when an enemy comes to your home, you fight back. So, I joined the army. I was ready for blood, dirt, life in the trenches, death, loss. But I wasn't ready for sexism. For stupid jokes and comments like: “What, we’re going to fill the army with women now?" or "You can’t do that," or “Go to the kitchen," or "you girls, why do you need a machine gun? You'll shoot yourself in the leg." All in the middle of a war.

I fight off sexism every day. “How come girls live in the Military Police Department? Can’t you go to the headquarters and sort through papers?"

 Did I protect what I wanted? I don’t know. Did I suffer for nothing? Doubtful. Do I want to be a civilian again? No. I was used to a warm shower, stretching, self-care, but that was before. Now, what would I do in civilian clothes? The war is not over. I cannot let go, give away, entrust protection to someone else and wait. This is my land, my loved ones, my home. I can't wait until they protect me. I won't.

I am a little girl with pink hair. I haven't had a manicure for a long time because long nails aren't comfortable with a machine gun. I have an urgent need to tear out what is being taken from me with my teeth. Everyone and everything is being taken from us.

 I am underestimated often. But only at first glance. I'm a defender, and I don't need a Y chromosome to be one. I have a weapon in my hands. The enemy is in my eyes. It's a shame I have to fend off sexist attacks so often, but we fight. Both here and there. We fight.