Being a woman born in Denmark means being told you’re lucky. Lucky to live in a country where equality is considered a given. Where girls can walk alone at night, maternity leave is protected by law, and few would openly question women’s rights. Most Danes even carry a quiet pride in the freedoms we enjoy.
But even in Denmark, being a woman comes with its own quiet battles. In a country so often praised for its equality, you cannot help but wonder how much of that is actually practiced, and how much is simply assumed. (Ever heard of the mental load debate in 2023?).
The Quiet Battles
Before continuing, I want to highlight how deeply grateful I am to have grown up in Denmark. It’s given me opportunities and freedoms many women elsewhere can only dream of. Still, even the most equal societies have nuances, and Denmark is no exception. But it wouldn’t be fair to critique missing equality without acknowledging our privilege, although that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t examine what’s still missing.
While Denmark is often hyped for being women- and family-friendly, I would argue that it is not entirely a feminist fairytale. It is great in many ways, but not perfect. Take, for example, the annual debate around the day women “start working for free”. In 2024, that day was November 14th, marking the pay gap. From then until year’s end, women are, statistically, unpaid.
This debate always sparks disagreements about the reasons behind it. So let’s dig into some numbers that strain the idea of true equality.
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- Part-time work: 33% of women work part-time, compared to 15% of men. After having children, the number rises, from 20% before kids to 40% five years after the first child.
- Parental responsibilities: Mothers take 1.59 more child sick days than fathers.
- Domestic work: Despite progressive norms, women still do more at home than men. On average, women perform one more hour of housework daily, adding up to nine extra full-time workweeks per year, unpaid.
- Salary: On average, women earn 12% less than men. 15% of this gap remains unexplained.
- Leadership: Only 28.6% of companies have female managers. Among CEOs, just 15.5% are women. There’s even a joke that Denmark has more CEOs named Lars or Peter than female CEOs. And it’s true. Of the 1000 largest Danish companies, 71 has a female CEO, while 80 are led by a Lars or Peter.
- Pensions: Women’s pensions are 25% lower on average. For women without kids, the gap is smaller at 7%.
This isn’t supposed to be a rant or a fight against men. But we cannot talk about womanhood without addressing the invisible expectations we’re born into, even in a country this good. And while our challenges are minor compared to many other women’s, the unfairness still stings.
The Freedom Is Real – and So Is the Silence
Despite the challenges I mentioned above, Denmark is in many ways an easy country to be a woman in. Women are economically active, politically represented, and generally safe. I can walk home at 2 in the morning and feel safe. I’ve had the same opportunities to study, work, and express my opinions just like any man. I’ve had more female bosses than male. I have access to contraception, free healthcare, free abortion, and free education. Formally, my gender has never been a barrier.
But there’s something else, too. A kind of quietness. A cool, northern restraint us Danes are famous for. A belief that because things are “equal enough,” we shouldn’t make too much of a fuss. Danes don’t like conflict. Sometimes, we don’t even like the word “feminism.” At university, I studied every aspect of feminism by exploring how social structures shape and reinforce gender roles within society, and I can honestly say I often felt embarrassed saying this aloud, as most Danes would argue that this doesn’t exist in a country that is already so great for women.
The Feminine Self
As I’ve written before, janteloven shapes many aspects of Danish society, including womanhood.
In my opinion, janteloven can be both protection and poison for women. On one hand, it can protect us from the extremes of vanity, from the societal pressures to constantly be more, do more, look more.
But on the other hand, it teaches women to downplay themselves, to shrink in order to fit into an invisible mold of “just enough”. Danish women are, in general, never too sexy, too loud, or too self-promoting. We’ve become experts at deflecting compliments: “I just threw this on,” “It was on sale,” “Oh, it’s nothing.”
In some ways, this humble approach to life can shield us from the harsh judgement and competition that might come with obvious self-promotion, creating an environment where we can feel free to just exist without needing to constantly prove our worth.
And yet, we still care. Danish beauty culture is minimalist but rigorous. But it exists.
Sex, Love and Marriage
Danes are famously liberal when it comes to sex. We don’t blush much. We’re quite open-minded. Nudity isn’t taboo. We learn early that sex is natural and free from shame.
But just because we’re open-minded doesn’t mean we’re open-hearted. Danish dating culture can be confusing. We don’t really “date.” We drink. We flirt. We sleep together. And then maybe we text.
I think I speak for most Danish women, who have fallen into months-long situationships with someone who swore they “weren’t ready for anything serious” while still acting like a partner. Ever met Danish couples who “dated” for a year before putting a title to it? We’ve built a culture that values independence so highly that vulnerability can feel shameful. Wanting something deeper, needing someone, saying you’re hurt, needing support, these things are still often read as weakness to women who have been raised with the “you can do everything a man can do”.
We don’t do drama, but we do ambiguity. Emotional transparency doesn’t come easily in a culture where silence is a love language, and too many words can feel suspicious. And yet, when love does happen, the relationship will mostly be built on mutual respect, honesty, and a shared understanding of each other’s desires and boundaries. There’s rarely any pressure to perform or conform to traditional gender roles. The modern Danish man is often just as active in cooking, cleaning and parenting as the woman is.
When it comes to love, it’s not about grand gestures. Public displays of affection are rare. And when it comes to marriage, the story gets even quieter. Danish women often don’t grow up expecting a fairytale proposal or grand wedding that many cultures expect. This simply doesn’t exist in Denmark, a country built on humility and modesty. Instead, love is shown in quieter, more practical ways, through acts of kindness, shared moments of joy, and a calm, enduring companionship. Love is more about partnership that passion.
Getting married follows a similar pattern of simplicity and practicality. In Denmark, marriage isn’t necessary. Many couples never marry even though they have kids, a house and share their whole life together. The ones who do marry rarely do so in a lavish ceremony. Instead, many couples simply marry at the City Hall in a private, understated ceremony. The focus is not on the show, but on the commitment.
Motherhood, or not
In Denmark, we talk a lot about work-life balance. We’re proud of our parental leave policies and affordable childcare. As a woman, it’s totally okay not to want children. But still, there’s kind of an assumed expectation that eventually, you will. And if you don’t, you’d better have a very good reason.
At 28 years old, I am feeling this pressure. It is subtle, like most things here, but still present. With my age and gender, I’m frequently met with questions such as “when are you planning to have kids”, “you’d be such a good mother”, “don’t wait too long”, or “you’ll regret it if you don’t.” It all comes from a well-meaning place. But the assumption that the clock is ticking, and that womanhood is, at some point, supposed to turn into motherhood, is a huge stress factor for many women.
Then there is the role of motherhood. Danish society is progressive, practical, and sensible. If you’re pregnant, you’ll not be fired. If you’re the father, you’re also expected to take paternity leave and be an active parent. But somewhere beneath the surface, there’s still the idea that women are the default parent. Sure, dads take paternity leave and push strollers around. Society says we’re equal, but somehow, women still end up doing more of the invisible work of planning, worrying, remembering everything.
This ties back to the mental load debate of how mothers often carry the invisible weight of responsibility. It’s still a recent shift in history that women are expected to manage full-time jobs while raising children. And while women’s roles have changed, many family dynamics haven’t fully caught up. Men are no longer always the main breadwinners, and mothers aren’t staying home, but the expectations haven’t adjusted accordingly. The roles are evolving, but often uneven in practice.
Maybe that’s why over 5,000 Danish women chose solo motherhood in 2024, a 50% increase in just 10 years. Independence is powerful. But so is support, and women shouldn’t have to carry both roles simply because they’re expected to.
Still, it’s worth noting that conversations around shared responsibility are growing louder. More men are stepping up, and more families are rethinking what balance really looks like. It’s not perfect, but there’s movement. And maybe that’s what matters most right now: that we keep questioning, keep talking, and keep striving for better. Not just for women, but for everyone.
In the end… it’s okay to want more
Being a woman in Denmark is like being given a beautiful, functional, and well-designed toolbox, and still not always know what to build, what to feel, or what to do.
As a woman in Denmark, it means having a lot of things sorted. It means you’re safe, educated, and free. But it also means you’re expected to be fine with just that. Not to complain. Not to want more.
While I’m incredibly grateful for all my privileges, I still long for more open conversations about what it really means to be us – the other half of the population. To want things that aren’t always rational. To feel things that aren’t easy to explain. To admit that even here, in one of the “best places to be a woman,” the experience of womanhood is still messy, complex and deeply personal.
Loving Denmark doesn’t mean pretending everything is perfect. We can be proud of how far we’ve come but still want more. More space. More honesty. More room to be fully human, in all our complexity. Being a woman in Denmark isn’t a tragedy. But it’s also not a finished story.
So I keep learning. From my mother, who raised me with strength and kindness. From my girlfriends, who are figuring it out too. And from the quiet voice inside me, slowly learning to speak a little louder.
