Navigating the Men’s World Cup as a Female Fan

There is a specific kind of whiplash that hits women’s football fans when the summer tournament cycle rolls around without a tournament. Last year our EURO summer was a complete masterclass in what football can be with its inclusivity, comradery and joy. But this summer the landscape is looking a little different. The men’s game has reclaimed the pitches and pub screens. With no major women’s tournament on the horizon (until Brazil 2027!), we are effectively renting out our eyeballs to a multi-billion-dollar machine that doesn't always know what to do with us.

Photo Credit; Getty Images

I love football, but I haven't always been that way. In fact, for most of my early life, I actively rejected it. To me, football was synonymous with shouting, violence and the intimidation of drunken, rowdy men dominating the streets. It was something to avoid, definitely not embrace. Growing up, women’s football was just an afterthought at school being tolerated but never truly encouraged. The only pathway I’d ever heard of a woman making a life out of football was a fictional one with Jessminder and Jules in Bend It Like Beckham. But then, I discovered the WSL and everything shifted, I fell completely in love.

Realising I loved the sport was a revelation because it made me understand that I had never actually rejected football itself. What had pushed me away was the culture surrounding it. It was the constant anxiety over my own safety and the heavy, unspoken weight of knowing that I wasn't welcome in those spaces. The women’s game changed all of that. It gave me a space where I could be loud, analytical and entirely myself without having to defend my right to exist. It showed me that passion didn’t have to come wrapped in hostility to matter. So when we switch the channel to a major men’s tournament this summer, it's not that we don't appreciate the elite athleticism on display. We do, but we are acutely aware of the cultural shift. We are stepping back into a world where we are invited to watch, but we aren't always invited to feel at home.

Photo Credit; REUTERS/Carl Recine

The truth is, I do love English football as a sport. During the last Men’s Euros, I was on the absolute edge of my seat, screaming at the pub garden’s telly like anyone else. But loving the men's game as a woman requires a constant, exhausting negotiation. I loved each match, but I didn't love being aggressively quizzed on the name on the back of my own shirt by a stranger testing my credentials. I didn't love being shoved around in the pub queue by 6'2", drunk twenty-year-olds who acted like I was invisible. And when England lost, the atmosphere instantly curdled. We all know the terrifying statistics surrounding domestic abuse and England results, so walking home that night meant carrying a familiar, hyper-vigilant fear.

But even in that anxiety, there are layers. As a white woman, my fear is gendered, but I am acutely aware of how much more volatile and dangerous these hyper-masculine spaces become for fans and players of color when a tournament goes wrong, as we saw in 2021. And that is the paradox. We switch on the men’s tournament because we love the sport, but we are acutely aware of the cultural regression. As fans, no one should have to brace themselves just to enjoy a game of football. We shouldn't have to choose between our passion for the sport and our peace of mind. Which brings us back to this summer and the empty space left by the absence of a women's tournament. If the wider footballing culture isn't going to change overnight, then we have to look after each other. We have to find ways to watch the sport we love without the baggage that usually comes with it.

Photo Credit; Sky Sports

So, what are we going to do this summer? Does anyone actually know of a pub out there where we can feel the same safety, respect and pure joy we felt during the Women’s Euros? Because right now, the prospect of brave-facing another hyper-masculine beer garden feels exhausting. Which got us thinking; should someone just host a women’s and non-binary watch party instead? And more importantly: if that "someone" was Girlactico, would you actually come? We’re just completely throwing the idea out there to test the waters. Nothing is planned, booked or set in stone. But if the idea of getting a room full of brilliant, football-obsessed women and non-binary folk together to shout at a screen sounds like the space I’m craving this World Cup.

Would you pull up a chair with us? Let us know if you'd be up for a Girlactico watch party.

Photo Credit; Aaron Chown/PA Wire