Memorial Day is a sacred time in the United States. For those of us who wore the uniform, it isn’t about barbecues or beach trips. It’s a solemn occasion to honor the fallen; the ones who never made it home, whose dog tags were collected in silence, whose boots were left empty at formation. We remember their sacrifice, not who they loved, how they identified, or who they prayed to. Their service. Their courage.
And yet, in 2025, that respect is being chipped away once again. This time, not just by a tweet, but by a formal policy, an executive order signed by the current administration that explicitly targets transgender service members under the guise of “Prioritizing Military Excellence and Readiness.” That EO, signed in January, revives the discriminatory logic we’ve seen before: claiming that inclusion is somehow incompatible with strength.
I served in the United States Air Force and the Air Force Reserve for thirteen years. I served honorably. I deployed. I sacrificed holidays, birthdays, and countless nights of sleep, like so many others. I didn’t do it for free surgeries or government-funded hormones; those lies are as lazy as they are cruel. I served because I love my country. I served because I believe in the promise of America, even when America doesn’t believe in me.
But belief is hard to hold when the people in power tell you you’re a threat just for existing.
Earlier this month, internal memos confirmed that the Department of Defense, under the direction of Secretary Pete Hegseth, will begin forcibly removing transgender service members starting next month. Hegseth, a former Fox News host turned Pentagon chief, has wasted no time carrying out the anti-trans agenda handed to him. The memo makes clear: identity now trumps service. And no amount of medals, deployments, or discipline will shield trans troops from this purge.
Let me be clear: being transgender doesn’t make you any less of a patriot. It doesn’t make you less capable. It doesn’t mean you serve for different reasons. We bleed red, white, and blue just the same. And when we come home draped in a flag, we deserve the same reverence.
Trump’s original 2017 ban was bad enough. But the current wave of enforcement, complete with administrative separations and denied reenlistments, is worse in one key way: it’s quieter. It’s less flashy. But make no mistake, it’s just as cruel.
National Guard pilot Jo Ellis, one of the brave few who’ve spoken out publicly, said it best: “I didn’t join the military to make a statement—I joined to serve. But now they’re making a statement about me. They’re saying I don’t belong, no matter what I’ve done for this country.”
That’s what makes this so heartbreaking. It’s not about policy; it’s about erasure. It’s about telling us, to our faces, that our love of country doesn’t count.
This Memorial Day, I ask all of us, especially within the transgender community, to remember the trans lives who served and died, even when their country tried to forget them. People like Air Force Tech Sgt. Leonard Matlovich, who came out as gay during the 1970s and paved the way for LGBTQ military rights, and who is buried with a headstone that reads, “When I was in the military they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.”
His words are still painfully relevant.
We honor the memories of those like Matlovich not by hiding who we are, but by living our truth boldly. We carry on their legacy by continuing to serve, in and out of uniform. Trans service members today are pilots, engineers, medics, mechanics, and leaders. They are part of every branch, every rank, and every conflict. They are no different from their cisgender peers in terms of capability, dedication, or honor.
Despite this, we continue to be used as a political tool for soundbites and donations.
We know what it means to be invisible, even while in uniform. We know what it feels like to be both celebrated and erased. We know the sting of a thank-you-for-your-service from someone who would vote to strip away our rights the next day.
To my fellow veterans and active-duty trans siblings: I see you. I salute you. I honor you. Your service is not defined by politicians. Your sacrifice is not diminished by ignorance. You carry a legacy that spans centuries, even if history books don’t yet tell your stories.
To our families and allies: Thank you for standing beside us. Your support means everything in a world that often asks us to prove our worth twice as hard. Keep showing up. Keep holding the line.
To those who oppose our presence in the military, I invite you to walk a mile in our boots. To stand post in 120-degree heat. To miss a child’s birth. To fight, bleed, and die for a country that debates your humanity on national television. Then tell me we don’t belong.
This Memorial Day, let us reclaim what was always ours: honor.
We honor our fallen not because of who they were, but because of what they gave. And transgender service members have given everything. Some were out. Some were not. All were brave.
We don’t ask for special treatment. We ask for remembrance.
Because on Memorial Day, we remember the uniform, not the politics.
We remember the sacrifice, not the slurs.
We remember the courage, not the cruelty.
And we will never forget those who gave all, trans or cis, for a nation still learning how to live up to its ideals.
For thirteen years, I served proudly. Today, I write this in their memory. For those who never came home. For those whose names weren’t listed. For those who wore the same boots but were never given the same respect.
We are still here. We have always been here.
And we will not be erased.
