The European Football Championship is creating a new reality, but not everyone is part of it.

Three quick whistles from the referee, and the Swiss national team's European Championship journey is over. The Spanish women were simply too strong last Friday evening . Swiss defender Viola Calligaris is kneeling on the pitch, holding her head in her hands, and shaking with fits of tears. I myself am standing in the stands at the stadium in Bern and have to turn away immediately; this image triggers so much in me.

A short time later, I dare to look back at the pitch. All the spectators are still there, shouting "Hopp Schwiiz" and clapping. As the players run past us and applaud as a gesture of thanks, I feel that we, players and fans, agree: We've made a difference.

I'm 21 years old and have been playing football for 16 years. I never could have imagined experiencing something like this European Championship, together with so many people. I'm grateful for this atmosphere, for this Swiss team. And I feel satisfaction. For years, I've been telling everyone how much fun it is to watch our national team. Now, the rest of Switzerland seems to finally understand.

When winger Nadine Riesen was substituted after 74 minutes in the quarterfinals and, completely exhausted, walked down the touchline to the bench, the spectators stood up and cheered. Riesen had pushed herself to her physical limits in this tournament; she was a symbol of a brave, self-sacrificing Swiss team; she never dropped a ball. Now an entire stadium honored her performance. And it was as if the audience were honoring the achievements of all female footballers who fought for recognition for years and remained invisible .

And yet I think there are still many questions left when we look to the future.

Before the European Championship, many goals were defined that were to be achieved with the momentum of the tournament. One of them is to inspire more women to take up football. But can we even handle the effects of this euphoria? How do we organize the infrastructure? Will there be enough coaches and referees if so many girls suddenly want to play football? Who gets priority when it comes to the best playing time? A lot of things are still geared towards the men.

I play for the second women's team at FC Brig-Glis in Upper Valais. Our first team recently moved up to the 1st division, where they'll be playing against opponents from all over Switzerland this fall. Our top-ranked men's team plays in the 2nd division. Until now, it's been our flagship team; the men have their own locker room and even ball boys. And now? Is the women's team entitled to these privileges? Does the locker room now belong to the best team, i.e., the women? Does our board have the courage to change something?

There's been a lot of discussion about equality in recent years. The prize money was adjusted for this European Championship. Cool, I think, but that's not enough. More is needed. And this is precisely where an important point is forgotten: equality goes both ways.

Our team won the championship last season. There was no trophy, unlike in previous years. It was said that the men wouldn't get one either. But why not a trophy for the men? That would be equal opportunity for me. And of course, this principle should be applied much more widely.

Women's football has so many advantages and strengths. Ramona Bachmann, a striker for the national team, explained before the European Championship that she had suffered from panic attacks. Captain Lia Wälti had already reported mental health issues. Could some of this openness be transferred to men? Could we talk about such issues without shame? Could we talk openly about homosexuality? And would even major change be possible? Less violence in stadiums? Less hatred of our opponents? Less commercialism? Less obsession with masculinity?

As a young girl, I was fortunate enough to play on a team where my gender wasn't an issue. We girls were never treated differently than the boys. Comments against us always came from off the field. Only then did I realize how wrong certain things were. Back then, I was often asked why I played on a boys' team, but from my perspective, I never played on a boys' team; I played on a mixed team.

My sister and I play together on a team again, like we used to, and our father has been supporting us on the sidelines for years. For our family, football was never defined by males. But I know that's not the case for many people.

At the opening match in Basel against Norway, I'm standing in the stands and can see Lia Wälti's tears of joy. I'm overwhelmed myself and feel: This is more than just a football match. Something fundamental is changing here.

Two men are sitting to my left. They don't say a single positive word about the game. It's their first time at a women's match and they're constantly commenting on the players' appearance. Experiencing these things simultaneously is shocking. I realize that there is a new reality, but not everyone is part of it.

I hope that this European Championship, at the very latest, will make it clear to all children in Switzerland that they can – and are allowed to – play football. That you can have female footballers as role models, even if you're a boy. That nothing is less important in this sport than gender.

All the women who participated in this tournament—whether on the pitch, in the stands, or in front of the television—are not demanding any special rights. We just want our place. And that includes the football field.

Joëlle Venetz, 21, is from Bitche (VS). She studies at the University of Bern and is a freelance journalist.