“The shame was never ours. The right for recognition is”
BY DEB MILLS-BURNS, IMAGE PROVIDED (DEB MILLS-BURNS PASSING OUT PARADE, AUGUST 1997)
A senior officer told me I would not be promoted because “I was a lezza”. It was 2000, the year the military’s “gay ban” was lifted, but prejudice was still shaping my future.
More than two decades later, I am putting experiences into words to seek recognition. The government’s financial and non-financial reparations schemes close on 12 December at 11:59 pm, so the clock is ticking. I want other women to know they can come forward before it’s too late.
I joined the British Army at 17 in 1997. Alongside learning to be a soldier, I learned to conceal a part of myself. I wore a mask. I had to think about what I said, what I revealed, who I could trust. My sexuality was something I had to fiercely protect.
For three years, a law specific to the Army, Royal Navy and Air Force meant it was forbidden to be anything but a cisgender woman or man and straight. It led to sackings, interrogations by the military police, and constant fear. When the ban ended in January 2000, the habits of hiding did not simply fall away. Neither did the homophobic behaviour around me.
Then, in 2004, I met the woman who is now my wife. I did not want to subject her to what I had experienced. I wanted a life together without carrying fear into our relationship. I felt I had no option but to leave. On paper, it was voluntary. For me, it was a decision shaped by years of discrimination.
Today, I am a wife, mother of two boys and a spoken word artist. As a DIVA contributor, I know the value of voice. But finding my voice has not made revisiting my military experiences easy.
After service, I continued to hide my sexuality in the workplace and would panic when someone asked me, “What does your husband do?” I’d reply with “he”, and then the shame came back that I hadn’t been brave enough to say “she”. Only now, as I am truly confident in being my authentic self, I realise I suffered a major identity crisis.
An application asks you to explain harm you may have spent years trying to put behind you. It means looking again at what happened and how it still affects you. That was hard, but it actually helped me to let go of the shame.
It was never my fault to love a woman.
I understand why women hesitate to come forward to claim what is theirs. You compare your experience with someone else’s, tell yourself maybe yours was not bad enough. Perhaps you weren’t formally dismissed or never told anyone.
My biggest advice is: please, before you rule yourself out, seek advice.
I was that person; I feel so much stronger for standing up for myself and applying.
I have my beret back; I wear my special Etherton Pin with pride. No payment returns the career I might have had. But recognition matters. I can tell the truth; I am unmasked. Finally, I value my service while acknowledging the harm.
LGBTQ+ Armed Forces charity, Fighting With Pride, can support you with your application for payments of up to £70,000 per person.
If you recognise your own experience in this, take one step: contact Fighting With Pride. If someone comes to mind, send her this article. We were taught that being ourselves was the problem. It never was.
The shame was never ours. The right for recognition is.
For more: Government scheme information
Find support: Fighting With Pride
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