The transgender military ban is a betrayal of those who have served. It feels very familiar to me.
As an Afro-Latina, LGBTQ Marine veteran, I experienced how a rigid definition of “readiness” has become a weapon, fracturing the very foundation of the institution I swore to serve.
Donald Trump’s transgender military ban isn’t about national security — it is a calculated assault on the humanity of those who dare to defy a narrow, exclusionary ideal. Multiple judges have now blocked enforcement of the ban, but Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has issued a directive that disqualifies service in the military by transgender people.
Both the executive order and the Hegseth policy feel like a personal betrayal. As an Afro-Latina, LGBTQ Marine veteran, I experienced how a rigid definition of “readiness” has become a weapon, fracturing the very foundation of the institution I swore to serve.
My decade in the Marines, beginning in 2006, was a relentless negotiation, a silent battleground. Though I entered with a desire to shatter the rigid mold of who “belonged,” the reality of being a woman of color in that space was a stark awakening. The chilling shadow of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” forced many of my LGBTQ comrades into suffocating silence, and even its repeal couldn’t erase the lingering sense of exclusion.
“Anticipated discrimination” is a crushing reality for many marginalized service members.
During my recruiting duty in Orlando, Fla., from 2010 to 2013, amid the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars, my perspective crystallized. I witnessed the raw determination of young people, particularly LGBTQ individuals, who defied societal odds to serve.
These were not statistics, but dedicated Americans who passed rigorous tests, and whose commitment was a testament to their unwavering spirit.
Even as the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell era faded, and I and other lesbian and gay service members found a measure of acceptance, a new battlefront emerged: The target shifted specifically to transgender service members.
The current environment for transgender service members cuts even deeper than Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. The ban’s language reflects deep-seated societal prejudice, contradicting public sentiment. Even with a dip to 58% in a 2025 Gallup poll, down from 71% in 2021, a majority of Americans continue to support transgender military service.
This disregard for public opinion exposes the ban’s true intent. Beneath the veneer of stability and immutability, and outlining priorities that favor a narrow notion of cohesion over proven capabilities, the waiver process revealed a calculated strategy of exclusion.
The ban seeks to enforce conformity, not readiness, revealing a desire to control bodies that defy traditional gender norms. The ambiguous waiver requirements and ban on transition are used as tools of obstruction, codifying prejudice and denying humanity.
“Anticipated discrimination” is a crushing reality for many marginalized service members. The constant expectation of prejudice erodes morale and retention. When contributions are dismissed, commitment wanes.
The transgender military ban exemplifies this.
Its demand for “compelling government interest” for waivers, coupled with impossible standards for stability, is a deliberate message: transgender service members — U.S. Defense Department data and research from the Williams Institute estimate that up to 10,790 transgender people serve in our ranks — are not wanted.
The judges’ rulings offer hope, however, I believe these signal a shift in the fight for transgender rights and inclusion by recognizing the policy’s discriminatory nature, and affirming that all qualified individuals, regardless of gender identity, should have the right to serve.
This is a victory for our military’s integrity, because a military that fails to value all members weakens its effectiveness, fostering mistrust and resentment. The implications of that extend beyond transgender service members, eroding the foundation of unity.
To be sure, some might argue the ban serves a practical purpose, primarily by attempting to minimize projected medical costs associated with transgender service members’ transitions and ongoing care. They assert the military’s resources should be focused solely on combat readiness, and that providing gender-affirming care diverts funds from that core mission. However, this rationale ignores the reality of dedicated service members already within the military and the potential pool of recruits. A 2017 Palm Center report found the ban would actually cost the military approximately $960 million over 10 years due to lost recruitment and retention.
This financial burden, coupled with the loss of dedicated people who are willing to serve, would weaken rather than strengthen military readiness.
» READ MORE: I’m a proud conservative. Here’s my view on the transgender military ban. | Opinion
The ban is a reminder that the fight for equality is not a series of isolated victories, but an ongoing challenge. Moving forward, we must dismantle exclusionary policies and demand a nuanced understanding of gender.
We must advocate for policies reflecting the Biden administration’s Executive Order 14035, promoting diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility.
The dedication of those who have already dutifully served demands it.
Joa Rojas served as a staff sergeant in the U.S. Marine Corps. She is currently pursuing a master’s degree in public administration from New York University and is a resident of Gloucester Township.