The media has a fetish for "resilience." It’s the ultimate comfort food for a Western audience watching a distant tragedy. We see a group of midlife women in Ukraine—mothers, grandmothers, survivors—trading fatigues for sequins and pom-poms, and we call it "inspiring." We frame it as a victory of the human spirit over the crushing weight of a kinetic war.
It isn't. It’s a coping mechanism that we’ve weaponized to avoid the uncomfortable reality of psychological exhaustion.
When we celebrate "cheerleading against the odds," we aren’t acknowledging the courage of these women. We are patting ourselves on the back for being able to consume their trauma as a feel-good story. The "lazy consensus" here is that staying busy with hobbies like cheerleading somehow defeats the intent of the aggressor. That’s a fundamental misunderstanding of how psychological warfare actually functions.
The aggressor doesn't care if you're dancing. They care if you're productive, if you're sane, and if your social fabric is holding together. If the social fabric is so frayed that the only way to feel "normal" is to engage in a hyper-stylized performance of American high school athletics in a bunker, the aggressor has already won a significant battle of attrition.
The Fetishization of the "Normal"
The standard narrative tells you that maintaining a routine is the only way to survive a long-term conflict. I’ve seen this play out in crisis zones from the Levant to Eastern Europe. Governments and NGOs push "normalcy" because it’s cheaper than providing comprehensive mental health infrastructure.
If you can get people to lead their own "resilience workshops" or form cheerleading squads, you don't have to fix the fact that their local economy has vaporized or that their children are growing up with a baseline of cortisol that would kill a healthy adult.
Let’s be precise about the terminology. Psychological Resilience isn't the ability to ignore a bomb. It’s the ability to integrate that experience into a coherent identity without losing executive function.
- Traditional Resilience: Returning to the original state (impossible in a war zone).
- Post-Traumatic Growth: Developing new psychological strengths (rarely happens through pom-poms).
- The Cheerleading Trap: Creating a performance of normalcy that masks a deepening dissociation.
When we applaud these women for "refusing to let the war defeat them," we are demanding that they perform a lie for our benefit. We want them to be "strong" so we don't have to feel "guilty" for our own safety.
Why Hobbies Won't Save the State
There is a cold, hard logic to war that your average "human interest" reporter refuses to touch. War is an engine of entropy. It breaks down systems.
A group of women in their 40s and 50s training to be cheerleaders is a logistical nightmare in a country with rolling blackouts and a fractured supply chain. Every calorie burned on a high-kick is a calorie not spent on community organization, local governance, or the grueling labor of domestic survival.
You might argue that the "morale boost" is worth the energy expenditure. Is it? Morale is a finite resource. If your morale is tied to a performance, it collapses the moment the music stops or the sirens start. True morale—the kind that wins wars of attrition—is found in utilitarian solidarity.
Think about the difference:
- Performative Solidarity: Forming a cheerleading squad for a viral video.
- Utilitarian Solidarity: Organizing a decentralized network for child-care so younger women can work in essential services.
One gets you a segment on a morning news show. The other ensures a community survives another winter.
The Dark Side of "Midlife Empowerment"
We also need to talk about the gendered expectations being shoved down these women's throats. Why is the "triumph of spirit" always represented by women doing something traditionally feminine and lighthearted?
You don't see viral articles about midlife men in Ukraine forming a hobbyist lawn-bowling league to "defy the war." Men are expected to be stoic, to fight, or to fix things. Women are expected to be the "cheerleaders" of the national psyche.
This is a regression disguised as progress. It suggests that the primary role of women during a crisis is to keep everyone else's spirits up—to be the decorative glue that holds the broken pieces together. It’s a massive emotional burden that we’ve rebranded as "empowerment."
I’ve spoken with therapists who work with displaced populations. They see this "must stay positive" attitude as a major barrier to actual healing. When a society mandates that you must be a "warrior of joy," you lose the permission to grieve. And if you can't grieve, you can't process. You just carry the weight until you snap.
The Counter-Intuitive Truth: Lean Into the Darkness
If we actually wanted to help these women, we’d stop asking them to dance. We’d give them the space to be broken.
The most "resilient" person I ever met in a conflict zone didn't have a hobby. He spent his days sitting in a darkened room acknowledging his fear. He didn't pretend things were fine. By accepting the total collapse of his "normal" life, he was able to make rational, cold-blooded decisions about his survival. He wasn't wasting energy on a performance.
Imagine a scenario where we stopped reporting on these "cheerleaders" as a sign of hope. Imagine if the headline was: "War Forces Grandmothers into Absurd Performances to Maintain a Shred of Sanity."
That’s a much more honest take. It’s also much harder to sell to an advertiser.
Dismantling the "People Also Ask" Propaganda
People often ask: "How does cheerleading help with PTSD?"
Brutally honest answer: It doesn't. At best, it's a distraction technique (grounding). At worst, it’s a form of avoidance. High-intensity exercise can trigger the sympathetic nervous system, which is already overworked in a war zone. You aren't "beating" PTSD with a routine; you're just delaying the bill.
People also ask: "Is it wrong to find these stories inspiring?"
Yes, if your inspiration comes at the cost of the subject’s reality. If you use their "strength" as a reason to ignore the systemic failure that put them in that position, you aren't being inspired—you're being voyeuristic.
The Real Cost of Inspiration
- Energy Misallocation: Focusing on "light" stories distracts from the demand for heavy weaponry or medical aid.
- The Resiliency Debt: Forcing people to "stay positive" leads to a massive mental health crash once the immediate danger passes.
- Narrative Erasure: The messy, ugly, un-photogenic parts of war get buried under a pile of sequins.
The Professional’s Take on Civic Morale
I have spent years analyzing how societies respond to prolonged stress. The "cheerleading" phenomenon is a symptom of a society that is being pushed past its breaking point, not a sign that it is winning.
In business, we call this "Toxic Positivity." It’s when a CEO tells the staff they’re doing a great job while the company is bankrupt. It prevents the hard conversations that lead to actual solutions. Ukraine doesn't need cheerleaders; it needs a world that recognizes the sheer, unadulterated horror of its situation without needing a "silver lining" to look at it.
Stop looking for the "inspiring" angle. Stop asking for the "resilient" take.
Accept that war is a black hole that sucks the joy out of everything, and that any "joy" you see is likely a desperate, gasping attempt to breathe in a vacuum. It’s not beautiful. It’s a tragedy that we’ve dressed up in a uniform and told to smile for the camera.
Stop celebrating the dance and start looking at the ruins they're dancing in.
