10 Incredible Things Accomplished By Women Disguised As Men – Listverse

Long before hashtags, diversity committees, and HR trainings, some women who wanted to study, fight, or simply play sports at a serious level had to take a much more dramatic route: they put on men’s clothes, borrowed a masculine name, and slipped into spaces that were officially “for men only.” Sometimes their disguise lasted months. Sometimes it lasted a lifetime. In a few cases, their true identity wasn’t discovered until they died.

The stories below mix solidly documented history with a few legendary figures that have been retold for centuries. In some cases, these people described themselves as women living in disguise; in others, later generations labeled them that way even though modern readers might understand their gender very differently. Either way, they show us how far someone will go when the door they’re knocking on is nailed shut.

From a judo pioneer who had to hand back her gold medal, to a botanist who circled the globe under a fake name, to saints and soldiers who risked everything just to be allowed in the room, here are ten incredible things accomplished by “women disguised as men.”

10. Rena “Rusty” Kanokogi Sneaked Into a Men’s Judo Tournament – And Changed the Sport

Borrowing a name, taping down her chest

In 1959, Rena “Rusty” Kanokogi desperately wanted to compete at a New York State YMCA judo championship in Utica. There was just one problem: judo, especially in formal competition, was treated as a men’s sport. The entry form didn’t even have a box for “female.” So Kanokogi did what many rule-breakers in history have done: she cut her hair short, taped down her breasts, signed up under a male name, and quietly took her place as an alternate on the men’s team.

When a male teammate was injured, she stepped onto the mat in his place and won. Her team took the overall titlewith help from a competitor the organizers didn’t realize was a woman. Later, an official pulled her aside and bluntly asked if she was female. When she admitted it, she was stripped of her medal and the victory she’d helped secure.

From banned competitor to “mother of women’s judo”

The loss of that medal burned, but it lit a fire. Kanokogi spent the rest of her life campaigning for women’s judo. She trained athletes, pushed for women’s divisions at major tournaments, and was a driving force behind the inclusion of women’s judo in the Olympic Games. The same woman who once had to pretend to be a man just to get on the mat eventually helped create a world where female judoka could compete openly at the very highest level.

Her disguise lasted only one tournament. The changes it sparked reshaped an entire sport.

9. Kathrine Switzer Signed Up for the Boston Marathon Like “One of the Guys”

When initials were the disguise

In 1967, the rules of the Boston Marathon didn’t explicitly ban womenbut the sport’s governing body insisted that women were too “frail” to run 26.2 miles. Race officials simply assumed that anyone applying for a bib number had to be male. Kathrine Switzer exploited that blind spot. She registered as “K. V. Switzer,” submitted the required medical forms, paid her fee, and got an official bib number.

On race day she wore baggy sweats, a hoodie, and that innocuous bib pinned to her chest. For the first few miles, she blended into the sea of male runners. Then race co-director Jock Semple spotted her, realized there was a woman in his “men’s” race, and famously tried to rip her number off mid-stride. Photographers captured Switzer’s coach and boyfriend body-checking Semple out of the way while she kept running.

From “you don’t belong here” to a global running revolution

Switzer finished the race, but the images of a furious official attacking a bib-wearing woman went global. They became a symbol of how absurd the barrier really was. Switzer spent decades lobbying for women’s distance running, helping to open marathons to women worldwide and advocating for the women’s marathon event that finally debuted at the 1984 Olympics.

Switzer didn’t disguise herself with a fake mustache or deep voice; her “male” cover was just a pair of initials and a bulky sweatshirt. It was enough to reveal how flimsy the gatekeeping really was.

8. Deborah Sampson Fought in the American Revolution as “Robert Shurtliff”

Signing up for war in someone else’s skin

In 1782, as the Revolutionary War dragged toward its end, a Massachusetts woman named Deborah Sampson made a decision that was both desperate and brave. Women were not allowed to enlist as soldiers in the Continental Army, but Sampson wanted to fight. She bound her chest, put on men’s clothes, and enlisted under the name “Robert Shurtliff” (often recorded as Shurtleff or Shirtliff).

Sampson was assigned to the Light Infantry Company of the 4th Massachusetts Regiment, an elite unit often used for scouting and dangerous missions. She marched, drilled, and fought like any other soldier. She even reportedly dug musket balls out of her own leg rather than see a doctor who might discover she was female.

Recognition came latebut it did come

After the war, her disguise eventually unraveled, and the story of the “female soldier” spread. Sampson later gave public lectures about her wartime serviceunusual for a woman at the timeand in 1805 she successfully petitioned for a military pension based on her actions in battle. That was rare even for male veterans, and almost unheard of for a woman.

Her “Robert Shurtliff” persona fooled officers, comrades, and enemy troops alike. Beneath the uniform was someone who refused to accept that patriotism or courage came with a gender restriction.

7. Cathay Williams Became the Only Known Female Buffalo Soldier

From enslaved “contraband” to enlisted soldier

Cathay Williams was born enslaved in Missouri around 1844. During the Civil War, she was forced to work for Union forces as a cook, laundress, and camp followerhard, dangerous labor with none of the recognition or pay given to soldiers. After the war, she did something no one expected: she flipped the script.

In 1866, women were barred from enlistment in the U.S. Army. Williams cut her hair, adopted the name “William Cathay,” and passed a quick medical exam. She joined the 38th U.S. Infantry Regimentone of the Black “Buffalo Soldier” units posted to the American West. Only a cousin and one friend in the unit knew she was female.

Serving in uniform, then quietly disappearing

Williams marched, drilled, and did garrison duty in harsh conditions in New Mexico. Repeated illness and the physical toll of army life eventually landed her in the hospital, where a surgeon discovered her secret. She received an honorable discharge in 1868.

Years later, when Williams applied for a disability pension, officials again questioned herbut denied her benefits despite her documented service and serious health problems. Her exact date of death is unknown; she likely died in poverty around 1893.

Today, she’s recognized as the first documented Black woman to enlist in the U.S. Army while disguised as a man and the only known female Buffalo Soldier. Her disguise didn’t just get her into a restricted jobit made her part of a chapter of military history that almost erased her entirely.

6. Renée Bordereau Terrified Napoleon’s Troops on the Battlefield

Trading a dress for cavalry boots

Renée Bordereau grew up in rural France and saw her father and other relatives killed during the chaos of the French Revolution. When civil war erupted in the Vendée region, Bordereau didn’t stay home to mourn. She cut her hair, put on men’s clothes, and took the name “Hyacinthe” so she could fight as a Royalist cavalry soldier.

On horseback, with a bridle reportedly clenched between her teeth so both hands were free for weapons, she became a terrifying sight: sword in one hand, pistol in the other. Later accounts claim that in her first battle she killed more than a dozen enemy soldiers; over time she fought in dozens of engagements against revolutionary forces.

The bounty on the “invincible” fighter’s head

Bordereau’s ferocity made such an impression that enemies spread rumors she couldn’t be killed. Napoleon’s government reportedly placed a large bounty on her head, and she spent periods of her life on the run or imprisoned. After the wars, she was never fully rewarded or secure; like many veterans on the losing side, she struggled to survive.

Her male persona allowed her to ride into battle. The courage behind it was all her own.

5. Jeanne Baret Circumnavigated the Globe as “Jean” the Ship’s Valet

A botanist in disguise

In 18th-century France, naval regulations were clear: women were not allowed on royal exploration ships. That was inconvenient for Jeanne Baret, a brilliant herbalist and assistant to the botanist Philibert Commerson. When Commerson was invited to join Louis-Antoine de Bougainville’s Pacific expedition, Baret solved the “no women” problem herself.

She wrapped her chest, donned men’s clothing, and enlisted as “Jean Baret,” Commerson’s valet. Once aboard, she helped collect and catalog thousands of plant specimens as the expedition circled the globe between 1766 and 1769. The crew, according to some accounts, suspected something was offBaret was unusually knowledgeable about botany for a mere servantbut the masquerade held for a long time.

The first woman around the world (even if the ship logs didn’t say so)

Eventually, at a remote stopover, her sex was exposed. Accounts differ on whether locals, crew members, or a medical exam forced the revelation. What’s clear is that Baret endured harassment and hardship far beyond what the official records acknowledge. Yet she completed the journey, later returned to France, and was eventually granted a modest pension that explicitly praised her courage and service.

Many explorers had their names carved into maps for doing less. Baret did it all while pretending to be someone the ship’s captain was willing to hire.

4. Khawlah bint al-Azwar Rode Into Battle Like a Legendary General

The warrior in the black cloak

Khawlah bint al-Azwar appears in early Islamic chronicles as a fearsome warrior who fought during the 7th-century Muslim conquests in the Levant. These accountspart history, part legenddescribe a fighter in black armor and a veil, wielding a spear and sword with such skill that fellow soldiers assumed “he” was a famous male general.

Only after a battle, when commanders demanded to know which man had led the charge, did Khawlah reportedly reveal that she was a woman. In some versions, she takes up arms after her brother is captured; in others, she rides into battle to rally retreating troops. Either way, the point is clear: she entered the male world of mounted combat by hiding her gender under armor and cloth.

History, legend, and what they’re really saying

Modern scholars debate how much of Khawlah’s story is strictly factual and how much comes from later romanticized sources. What’s not in doubt is how she’s remembered in parts of the Middle East: schools, streets, and even a women’s military college have been named after her. In popular memory she is the woman warrior who could pass as one of the toughest men on the fieldand then surpass them.

Her “disguise” wasn’t a comic costume; it was a suit of armor that made her look like just another horseman until it was too late.

3. Agnodice Became Athens’ “Male” Doctor Who Treated Women

When doctors were men by law

Agnodice is a figure from ancient legend, said to have lived in 4th-century BCE Athens. According to a story preserved by the Roman writer Hyginus, Athenian law forbade women from practicing medicine. Desperate to learn, Agnodice cut her hair, dressed as a man, and studied under the renowned physician Herophilus.

Once trained, she practiced as a “male” doctor, especially treating women in childbirth who were ashamed or afraid to consult male physicians. She became so popular that other doctors grew suspicious and jealouswomen were insisting on being treated by this new, unusually empathetic practitioner.

On trial for being too good at her job

The male doctors accused Agnodice (whom they believed to be a man) of seducing patients. Dragged before a tribunal, she reportedly lifted her tunic to reveal she was actually a woman. The scandal shifted instantly: now she was prosecuted for the crime of practicing medicine while female.

In the legend, her grateful patients rallied to her defense and forced the city to change the law, allowing freeborn women to treat other women. Historically, scholars doubt many details of the storybut its staying power says a lot. The “disguise” here isn’t just clothing; it’s the assumption that only a man could be a doctor, an idea Agnodice shattered by being very good at her job before anyone realized their mistake.

2. Marina the Monk Lived, Prayed, and Raised a Child in a Monastery

Following her father into monastic life

The story of Marina the Monk (often called Marinos in the sources) is part history, part hagiography. In traditional Christian accounts, Marina’s widowed father wanted to retire to a monastery. When he told his daughter she needed to stay behind and marry, she had a different idea: she shaved her head, put on a monk’s habit, and entered the monastery with him under the name Marinos.

For years, “Brother Marinos” lived like any other monk: praying, fasting, and doing manual labor. The other monks, according to the story, simply assumed Marinos was a particularly gentle, quiet man or possibly a eunuch. The disguise was complete.

Accused of fathering a childand saying nothing

One day, while on a journey, Marinos stayed at an inn. Later, when the innkeeper’s daughter became pregnant by a visiting soldier, the soldier told her to blame the young monk. She did. The scandal reached the abbot; Marinos, rather than reveal the secret, accepted exile and disgrace. When the baby was born, the innkeeper shoved the child into Marinos’s arms. The “disgraced monk” raised the child outside the monastery gates for years, living on charity.

Only when Marinos died and the monks prepared the body for burial did they discover the truth: Marinos had been assigned female at birth. Traditional tellings present Marina as a woman who disguised herself out of devotion and accepted injustice out of humility. Some modern writers, especially in queer and trans communities, read the story differentlyas an early narrative of someone whose inner identity didn’t match the sex others saw. The oldest sources don’t use modern labels, so we can’t know how Marina would have described themself. What we do know is that the disguise held for a lifetime, and the life lived under it inspired centuries of devotion.

1. Theodora of Alexandria Did Penance Hidden in a Monastery of Men

Running awayfrom her mistake and from her name

Like Marina, Theodora of Alexandria appears in early Christian writings as a woman who “disappeared” into a male monastery. According to later accounts, she was a noblewoman who committed adultery, was consumed with remorse, and left her husband to do penance. To vanish completely, she shaved her head, put on men’s clothing, took the name “Theodore,” and joined a remote monastic community.

There, “Brother Theodore” lived a life of brutal self-denial: fasting, night vigils, and the hardest tasks around the monastery. For years, no one suspected that this silent, disciplined monk had once moved in elite circles as a married woman in the city.

The familiar accusationand the twist at the end

In a plot twist that sounds very familiar if you’ve just read about Marina, a village woman eventually became pregnant and accused Theodore of being the father. Theodora did not defend herself or reveal her earlier life. She accepted expulsion from the monastery and spent years raising the child in poverty near its walls, still disguised as a monk.

The truth, in traditional versions of the story, only emerged after Theodora’s death when the monks were preparing the body. Some modern scholars argue that such stories reveal as much about medieval anxieties and fantasies as about any historical individual. Others, including some queer and trans writers, see in them hints of transmasculine experience retroactively squeezed into a “repentant woman” frame by later religious authors.

Either way, the disguise held. Theodora’s story is a reminder that for centuries, the only way some people could live the life they felt called towhether that meant penitence, prayer, or just escapewas to become someone else on paper, in clothing, and in the eyes of their community.

What These Disguises Reveal About Gender Rules

Take a step back and a pattern appears. These people weren’t cross-dressing to pull pranks or win costume contests. They were reacting to rigid systems that sorted opportunities into “for men” and “not for you.” The uniform, the monk’s habit, the signature on a race formthose were tickets that only men were allowed to hold.

Sometimes the disguise was thin: a pair of initials on a registration form, a baggy sweatshirt, a hat pulled low. Sometimes it was total, lasting for years with carefully practiced male mannerisms and deep secrecy. In many cases, the risky masquerade produced long-term change. Sports rules shifted. Medical education opened. Military service and exploration slowly became less rigidly gendered (even if still far from equal).

In other storiesespecially the hagiographical onesthe disguise is also a mirror for how later eras tried to make sense of people who didn’t fit neat categories. A monk living and dying as “he” but buried as “she” exposes more than personal devotion; it exposes the limits of the label makers.

Experiences of Living in Disguise: What It Might Have Felt Like

It’s one thing to summarize these lives in a neat list. It’s another to imagine what it felt like to wake up every day knowing that one wrong movea slipped pronoun, an uncovered bandage, a shirt pulled off too quickly in a barrackscould destroy everything.

Start with the basics: constant vigilance. Deborah Sampson wasn’t just marching; she was marching while guarding the way she walked, talked, and undressed. If a bullet wound or fever forced her into the hands of a doctor, she had to weigh the risk of exposure against the risk of dying untreated. Cathay Williams had to keep her voice steady, her clothes in order, and her friendships with other soldiers just close enough to build trust but not so close that anyone asked intimate questions.

There’s also the emotional whiplash of recognition and erasure. When Jeanne Baret discussed plants with educated officers, she was finally being treated as the expert she wasjust not as Jeanne. Her knowledge was welcome; her womanhood was not. For Rena Kanokogi and Kathrine Switzer, the flip side was public humiliation: the moment when an official outed them mid-competition and tried to physically remove them. In those split seconds, they had to decide whether to retreat or double down. Both chose to keep going, and that defiance helped countless women compete later without hiding anything.

The cloistered storiesMarina, Theodora, and similar figuresadd another layer: silence. Imagine carrying the weight of an accusation you know is false while also carrying a secret about your body or past that you believe you must never reveal. You’re raising a child who calls you “father” while knowing the community would be scandalized if they knew the truth. Whether we read these stories as about deeply devout women in disguise, early trans experiences, or a mix of both, they capture how isolating it is to live with a self the world refuses to see.

There were small, strange perks, too. Some “passing” women wrote about discovering how differently they were treated as men: more deference from strangers, less harassment on the street, more assumption of competence. Others noted that male spaces could be brutally lonely in their own waycomrades who would die for you in battle but never ask if you were okay, bosses who valued your work but barely knew your first name. The disguise didn’t just change how others saw them; it changed what they saw about masculinity itself.

And then there’s the aftermath. Once the secret was outat a doctor’s exam, in a courtroom, on a deathbedeach person had to decide: do I reclaim my old name, insist on a new one, or let others write the story for me? Some, like Sampson, leaned into the fame of being “the female soldier” and used it to campaign for pensions and recognition. Others, like Cathay Williams, were quietly denied support and faded from the record until modern historians dug them back up. In the most extreme cases, like Marina and Theodora, the person had no say; others wrote their tomb inscriptions and homilies.

Put all of that together and you get something more complicated than a simple “brave woman puts on pants” story. You see people who gambled with identity itselfsometimes for survival, sometimes for love of country or God, sometimes for the simple, stubborn belief that they were capable of more than their society allowed. The disguises they wore weren’t just costumes. They were blunt tools for prying open locked doors, often at great personal cost.

Conclusion

The ten stories above span centuries, continents, and motivations. A judo pioneer chasing a medal. A marathon runner determined to prove women could go the distance. Soldiers who traded skirts for uniforms, a botanist who crossed oceans under borrowed clothes, legendary monks who lived and died under names that hid their bodies.

Not all of these accounts are equally well documented, and some come to us wrapped in legend. Some of the people long described as “women in disguise” may, through a modern lens, look more like early trans men or gender-nonconforming figures misfiled by history. A responsible reading acknowledges that uncertainty instead of flattening it. But whether we’re looking at a firmly documented Buffalo Soldier or a saint whose story passed through centuries of retelling, a common thread runs through them all: a rigid rule, a locked door, and someone who refused to accept that “no” was the final answer.

Today, more women and gender-diverse people can study, serve, compete, and explore without hiding who they are. That didn’t happen by accident. It happened because, again and again, someone pulled on a too-big coat, signed a forbidden form, or tucked their hair under a cap and stepped into a world that insisted they were not allowed. The disguise was temporary. The changes they forced were not.