LGBT History Month is an important time because it creates space for airtime, publicity, information and understanding. It allows stories to be told with and about LGBT+ people: our experiences, feelings, hopes, desires, joys, sadnesses and fears. Too often these stories have been silenced or distorted. This month gives us an opportunity to reflect, to listen and to learn. This year, that reflection feels especially urgent as we focus on the ongoing criminalisation of LGBT+ people around the world.
I was born in 1946. Male homosexuality was not decriminalised in England and Wales until 1967, and even then, only for private acts between consenting men over the age of 21. The age of consent was not equalised to 16 for all until 2001. Lesbianism, while never explicitly criminalised, was nevertheless excoriated. A striking example is Radclyffe Hall’s 1928 novel The Well of Loneliness, which was found to be obscene, not because it depicted lesbianism, but because it accepted it rather than condemning it.
For the first 30 to 40 years of my life, I felt fearful and ashamed of my sexuality. I wished I could change. I tried to hide it by behaving as a heterosexual and having boyfriends to fit it. I struggled even to think about the word lesbian, let alone say it aloud or tell anyone that I was one.
I was fortunate that my parents were not prejudiced. My father had two aunts and, looking back, I am sure they were lesbians – though they were certainly not ‘out.’ Their lives, like so many others of their generation, were lived quietly and cautiously.
After university, I joined the Diplomatic Service in 1968 and was posted to the British High Commission in Delhi from 1969 to 1973. British colonial laws criminalised homosexuality in India, where same-sex intimacy remained illegal until a landmark Supreme Court ruling in 2018. As I became increasingly aware that so many countries still criminalised same-sex relationships, I realised that I could not continue in the Diplomatic Service as a lesbian. I therefore transferred to the Home Civil Service and spent most of my career in the Home Office.
The criminalisation of LGBT+ people creates and sustains cultures of hatred and fear. Decriminalising homosexuality is therefore the most important first step towards wider social acceptance. This belief is what motivated me to become involved with the Human Dignity Trust, where I previously served as a trustee. The Trust’s primary purpose is the decriminalisation of same-sex intimacy, and it brings deep legal expertise, global reach, and a strong record of success.
More than 50 years have passed since the UK began repealing laws that criminalised the private lives of LGBT+ people. The transformation since then has been profound. Today, there is a broad acceptance of homosexuality in the UK. Prejudice still exists, of course, but I now feel able to be open about my sexuality. We have Pride marches. We see gay books in bookshops. Gay men and women appear on television, in plays, films, and literature. We have politicians who are open about their homosexuality. These changes demonstrate the extraordinary power of legal reform. Changing the law does not instantly erase prejudice, but it creates the conditions in which hearts, minds, and cultures can change.
Across the world however, we are seeing a worrying regression in LGBT+ rights. Some countries are criminalising consensual same-sex intimacy for the first time, others are moving to recriminalise it, and elsewhere even harsher laws are being introduced that strip LGBT+ people of their rights and protections. This is not simply a backlash, but a growing movement that demands an urgent and collective response.
As part of its Legacy of Love campaign, the Human Dignity Trust is launching a new free Will-writing service to help supporters leave a lasting impact. Legacy giving can be a powerful way to support the ongoing global movement for LGBT+ decriminalisation and freedom from violence. There is still a great deal of work to be done, particularly in countries that were formerly British colonies. Many of these countries did not criminalise homosexuality themselves; those laws were imposed by the UK. In a very real sense, we therefore have a moral duty to support those who are working to remove this painful legacy of colonialism. Doing so takes time, effort, and above all, money.
LGBT History Month reminds us where we have come from and how far we still have to go. By supporting decriminalisation efforts today, and by choosing to leave a legacy of love, we can help ensure a future where no one is forced to live in fear simply for being who they are.
