'Love doesn't die with death': How four years of war have reshaped relationships in Ukraine

How to love amid the uncertainty of war? It takes on many forms in Maryna Kumeda’s book, “Love in Wartime”. From Izium and Kharkiv to Kyiv, Sloviansk, and Lviv, she traveled across Ukraine to meet people and document how they love in these peculiar times.

Kumeda, 41, saw many kinds of love: There was the love of Ukrainians for their homeland, the fraternity and sorority among soldiers fighting in same unit, the love of mothers who join defence groups against Russian drones so their children never have to take up arms one day to defend their country themselves. Kumeda, who was born in Sumy, decided to join the Ukrainian army herself after writing the book. 

There were also many divorces and separations. A general trend suggests that after a “boom” in marriages linked to the beginning of the full-scale war in 2022, the number of marriages decreased every year compared to the previous year.

"War accentuates all the cracks: if the ties are solid, it doesn’t destroy them, but if there is already a crack, it widens,” said Ania, one of the people interviewed in the book. War also accelerates decisions, and marriages take place spontaneously in the space of two hours – the time of leave of absence given to soldiers.

On the fourth anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, FRANCE 24 spoke to Kumeda about the different ways love manifests itself during war and its capacity to transcend borders and even death.

Is there a fundamental difference between love 'before the war' and love 'after the war'?

I wasn’t in Ukraine when Russia launched its full-scale invasion on February 24, 2022. I had been living abroad (in France) for 17 years, so I didn’t know the practices were in love “before the war”. It was only after I returned to Ukraine in January 2024 that I starting dating other Ukrainians and talking to them about love and relationships.

People of course evoke changes in the intensity of their relationships. The most important consequence of the war is that is takes away the future. It’s impossible to make plans during the war and this has a huge impact on the way people make decisions.

The war appears to have provoked many divorces because of prolonged stress, economic difficulties and the impact of war on the couple’s life. The war also seems to have strengthened existing bonds and catalysed new relationships. What is your take?

It can go in both directions. There was a fall in the number of births with so many people leaving abroad. Cracks began to appear in certain relationships. One party says, “this marriage doesn’t respond to my expectations", and it ends in divorce.

Yet relationships are also forged faster, especially among soldiers. We hurry so we can live. It’s biological, with the hormones and the stress. You might have one day out of 3 months to spend in Kyiv. So you rush to see an exhibition, go to the movies ... and some people get married.

Sacha and Victoria are a couple who I wrote about in my book. They met in Izium in November 2024, where Sacha was stationed with the III assault brigade. By September 2025, Sacha was sent back to the front and disappeared. Victoria hasn’t had any news from him for six months. She believes he is alive and free but he could be dead or in captivity.

You have also investigated the solitude and the sexuality of soldiers. What did you learn?

They get to the essential much quicker. When you are a soldier, you are deprived of normality, like having a shower or getting tenderness. So you are frank about your needs. I met a man online whose wife lived in Poland. He was looking for experiences: an exhibition, a concert or a discussion in a bar. We talked about our lives. I told him I was looking for romantic meetings, while he wanted company for all the activities he used to engage in during his past civilian life.

Andrii, a drone pilot who you met in Sloviansk, told you: 'The army takes up the biggest part of yourself, and the small percentage that you can share with another person is most likely not enough for something profound.' What does the widening gap between soldiers and civilian spell out for the future of relationships in Ukraine?

Part of the family culture in Ukraine means protecting loved ones from the harsh reality. A man will say, “I can’t tell my wife what I’m going through. She doesn’t want to know this." People will either lie or avoid telling their loved ones the truth. Men who don’t tell their wives they are on the front lines believe that no one could ever understand, except for his comrades.

Ania is someone who fought to stay happy in her relationship with Tocha, a soldier. I would ask her, “Why don’t you ask him questions?” and she would say, “What for? He would tell a few stories and it was already enough. The combats, the cadavers, the bombings.”

This difference in emotional experience is becoming problematic among couples. Today there are manuals and video conferences on how to talk to members of the armed forces: the experiences between them and civilians are so opposed that it's easy to say something wrong or hurtful. When a soldier leaves on a mission for example, people often tell them, "take care of yourself". Yet as a soldier, I'm not there to preserve myself. I'm there to complete a mission. I prefer to say, "be strong". 

Love transcends borders, as demonstrated by the romance between Lisa (a Russian citizen) and Slava (a Ukrainian). Why did you chose to include their story?

Seen from France, their story could be misinterpreted as one of a bridge between a Russian and a Ukrainian. Yet as Slava says, Lisa is more of a (Ukrainian) patriot than him. They went through many administrative obstacles, especially because of Lisa’s passport. The couple recently announced to me that they are expecting a child. I used their story to illustrate hope and not just tragedy.

The love of Ukrainians for animals saved from destroyed zones is remarkable. What accounts for this strong attachment for errant dogs and cats?

Animals are a source of tenderness. Consider the words of Oleksandr: “If you think an adult man doesn’t need to have his head caressed for half an hour in silence, you are wrong.” Animals help fill this gap. During my military training, we’ve been spending a certain amount of time with cats. Everyone needs their dose of oxytocin [a hormone essential for emotional bonding in humans]

Dogs can be dangerous on the front lines because they can reveal the presence of soldiers. Yet cats are being adopted in combat zones. There are also many stories of women and men who don’t want to leave their homes near battle lines because it would mean leaving their animals behind.

Love in wartime can take surprising forms, even transcending death. One woman spoke to you about her experience with posthumous reproduction. How did Marta’s story fit into your book’s overall theme of love?

I was working on a report about posthumous medically assisted procreation (MAP) in Ukraine. I sent out a message to a group on WhatsApp of wives of soldiers who had died in battle. Marta not only accepted to speak to me, but said it would be a way for her to think about how to explain to her daughter the conditions around her birth.

Marta would not stop talking about love. She would say: “I did this out of love, even if I was scared. He badly wanted a child and we wouldn’t have had the embryos without all his efforts.” She showed me videos of her husband on her phone. Her daughter clearly has the same eyes as him. This is a story of posthumous MAP but it’s a love story all the same. Love doesn’t die with death.