The Challenges of Being a Female Gamer

Growing up, I loved video games. I remember sneaking in late-night sessions of "Halo" with my older brother, my fingers gripping the controller tightly as I tried to keep up. Those early memories are some of my favorites. But as I got older and started playing online, things changed. Suddenly, it wasn't just about the game. It became about who I was, or more accurately, what I was: a girl with a headset.

At first, I thought I was imagining it. I'd speak up in a voice chat and suddenly the room would go quiet or erupt with laughter. Sometimes someone would ask if I was “really a girl.” Other times, I’d be told to go back to the kitchen. The first few times it happened, I just muted myself. It was easier than speaking up. But I started to realize that muting myself didn’t really solve anything. It just meant I was hiding a part of myself to avoid conflict.

I remember one match in particular. It was a ranked Overwatch game and I was playing support. I used voice chat to call out enemy positions, heal priorities, and cooldowns. We won the game, but afterward, someone messaged me privately and said, “You’re actually good for a girl.” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or rage. That backhanded compliment stuck with me. It wasn’t about skill. It was about surprise. Like the default assumption was that I wouldn’t be competent unless proven otherwise.

Then there’s the darker side. Harassment. I’ve been called names, targeted in lobbies, and even received messages that crossed the line from annoying to threatening. It’s draining. But over time, I’ve developed a few tools to deal with it. First, I use the mute and block buttons liberally. If someone crosses the line, I report them. Always. I also take breaks when needed. Logging off isn’t giving up; it’s protecting your mental health. And I talk to other women about it. Sharing experiences makes it feel less isolating and reminds me I’m not the only one dealing with it.

It’s not just the comments, though. Sometimes it’s the feeling of being invisible. I’ve been in clans where I had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously, or had my ideas brushed off until a male player repeated them. In games that require teamwork, it's especially frustrating. I’m not asking for special treatment. I just want the same respect anyone else gets.

But here’s the thing: I’m still here. And I’m not alone. Over the years, I’ve met other women who love gaming just as much as I do, who’ve shared similar stories. We’ve built our own communities, our own Discord servers, our own safe spaces where we can talk strategy, celebrate wins, and even vent after rough sessions. That’s what keeps me going. It's the knowledge that things are slowly getting better, and that I can be part of that change.

To other women who love games but feel hesitant to jump in, I see you. It can be tough, and yeah, it’s unfair. But your voice matters. Your skills matter. You belong here just as much as anyone else. Find people who lift you up, report the ones who try to tear you down, and most of all: don’t stop playing. Every time you log on, you’re making space for someone else to do the same.

Gaming has come a long way, but it still has a long road ahead. The more we talk about our experiences, the harder it becomes to ignore them. I didn’t always have the confidence to speak up, but I do now. And if you’re reading this and feeling alone, I promise you. You're not.