About the author
Former Finland international goalkeeper Paula Myllyoja played for more than 25 years in a career which took her from Finland to Italy, Spain, Greece and Sweden. Now retired, Myllyoja reflects on the findings of FIFPRO’s Women’s National Team Player Survey, highlighting that while progress in the women’s game should be recognised, significant gaps in player conditions remain.

By Paula Myllyoja

I grew up playing on sand pitches. Training sometimes started at 9.30pm. Our kit was ‘ours’, but it was the men’s version – far too big – and we wore it for years. If you got someone else’s shirt from the previous season, you might be taking off an old name and sewing your own on top. For training, you often wore your own clothes.

It sounds wild now. But that was women’s football.

So, when I read the first findings of FIFPRO’s Women’s National Team Player Survey, I was shocked and saddened. I honestly thought things would be better by now. I expected something more hopeful, more positive.

Instead, the survey confirms a reality too many people still don’t want to hear: there is still a significant group of internationals playing with very low income, relying on second jobs, in poor conditions – trying to balance life and football while chasing a dream at the highest level.

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Paula Myllyoja in training for Finland during EURO 2022 (Credit: Football Association of Finland / Jyri Sulander)

People love to celebrate the growth of the women’s game. But too often, they turn a blind eye to what players are actually living.

One statistic that stood out was how common one-year deals are. Because here’s the truth: in women’s football, ‘one year’ is often a season contract. Nine or ten months.

That gap matters. When your contract ends, your income can stop and you’re left calculating your entire year: do you work in the off-season or take four to six weeks to recover? What happens if your national team has camps or a major tournament during that period, making it impossible to work anyway? It becomes a constant calendar calculation just to make sure you have money all year.

And it doesn’t end there. Even time off can be chaotic. In some clubs, you find out you have three days off the day it happens – too late to plan travel, too late to plan proper recovery, too late to see family unless you sprint for the next flight. I’ve done it when playing abroad: 90 minutes to get to the airport, booking flight tickets in a taxi, barely packed, just to spend two days at home. We’re adult women. We should be able to plan our lives. But too often, we’re treated like we can’t.

The survey shows many internationals earn modest salaries; two-thirds earned less than 20,000 USD per year, which is far below what people assume for international athletes. That doesn’t just affect lifestyle. It affects wellbeing.

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Paula Myllyoja in action for Finland (Credit: Imago)

Because players still pay for essential performance support out of their own pockets. If the club provides a physio but not massages, you pay. If the physio is too busy, you pay. If the club doesn’t have the tools or knowledge to treat your issue properly, you find help elsewhere – and you pay.

Mental health support? Often paid by the player, too. In my whole career, only one club I played for had a therapist available for players.

Good nutrition is another one. It’s not cheap. And when you’re choosing where to spend limited income, you’re adding stress to players who should be focused on performance and recovery.

I used to think: if I was paid more, I wouldn’t be ‘richer’. I’d simply be able to invest in my wellbeing so that I can recover better, eat better and put the right support around me to play well.

The survey also reflects what many players know in their bodies: travel is not a recovery day. Airports and layovers are stressful. Some teams don’t even cover food during travel. And some still take the cheapest possible routes – multiple flights, extra hours – and then expect players to arrive ready to perform.

That’s not high performance. It’s high risk.

But here’s the part that gives me hope: I’ve also lived the opposite.

In the last years of my national team career, building towards EURO 2022, we fixed a lot. The atmosphere between players and staff was strong. We could speak honestly about what we needed. 

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Paula Myllyoja at EURO 2022 (Credit: Football Association of Finland / Jyri Sulander)

We had a nutritional therapist who spent real time with us, plus mental coaching and therapy support. We had more physical staff: trainers, physios, osteopaths. Travel planning improved dramatically and we even took private flights.

I was genuinely happy in that environment. But I also kept reminding myself: this is how it should be. It shouldn’t be a privilege. It should be normal for women everywhere who are performing a job with high demands.

This is why FIFPRO’s survey matters. Because individual players speaking up can be dismissed as anecdotes – but the data can’t.

It shines a light on the reality of players, and it puts the responsibility where it belongs: with the decision-makers who have the power to set standards and fund them.

It also helps unite the voices of players. A collective voice is harder to silence. Throughout my career, the Finnish players' union gave us a collective voice, helping turn individual concerns into changes that improved the game for everyone. Having the union behind us meant players were not alone, which made a real difference to safety, conditions and the courage to speak out.

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A young Paula Myllyoja starting out as a goalkeeper (Credit: Paula Myllyoja)

So, to the next generation: keep speaking, even when it’s messy and difficult. Those are usually the topics that most need to be said out loud because other people are struggling with the same things, too.

And to football’s decision-makers: have the courage to act. Not with nice words at galas, but with real work – and real honesty – to meet the needs of women’s players. Put passion for the game ahead of protecting an unfair system.

I started in a world where I was told girls couldn’t even be goalkeepers. If someone told that girl she would one day fly to an away match on a private plane with her own dietary needs catered for, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Progress is possible. I’ve lived it. Now make it standard – not a privilege. 

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A young Paula Myllyoja starting out as a goalkeeper (Credit: Paula Myllyoja)

Cover image credit: Football Association of Finland / Jyri Sulander