Bridgerton star Adjoa Andoh has received her MBE from Prince William, two years after her controversial comment about the royal balcony.

Over the last few days, people who have made an impact on the world have been honoured by the royal family. Just a few days ago, Strictly’s very own Claudia Winkleman was honoured with an MBE from King Charles.

On Wednesday, Adjoa collected her MBE from the Prince of Wales.

It comes a couple of years after Adjoa sparked some controversy because of her comments on the royal family.

She said the balcony was “terribly white” (Credit: Zak Hussein / SplashNews.com)

What did Adjoa Andoh say about the royal family?

Back in May 2023, during the live broadcast on ITV of King Charles’ coronation ceremony, Adjoa made comments about how “terribly white” the balcony looked. As a result, she was flooded with backlash.

The star, who plays Lady Danbury in the hit Netflix show Bridgerton, was commentating for ITV alongside TV personality Myleene Klass and hosts Tom Bradby and Julie Etchingham.

During the event, Adjoa reflected on how different the balcony looked to Westminster Abbey and noted the lack of “diversity”.

She said: “We have gone from the rich diversity of the Westminster Abbey to a terribly white balcony. I am very struck by that.

“I am also looking at those younger generations and thinking: ‘What are the nuances that they will inhabit when they grow?’”

However, after the comments were made, Adjoa faced a lot of backlash online. Thousands also complained to TV watchdog Ofcom about the comments.

Adjoa later issued a statement over the backlash.

The 62-year-old explained that she “didn’t mean to upset anyone” and thought the whole coronation was “marvellous”.

She said on BBC Radio 4 at the time: “I think I upset a few people yesterday. I was talking about the day and how marvellous it was and then looking at the balcony at the end and suddenly going: ‘Oh it’s so white!’ Because the day had been so mixed. I didn’t mean to upset anybody.”

But evidently, Prince William and the royal family have not let any comments made by Adjoa get in the way of recognising her talent.

Adjoa received her honour in Windsor this week  (Credit: Brett D. Cove / SplashNews.com)

Prince William honours Adjoa with MBE

On Wednesday, Adjoa was seen chatting away with Prince William as he handed her the honour of an MBE. She was given the award for her services to drama.

The star looked stunning in a white dress with black heels. As the prince gave her the medal, the pair were seen laughing and having a lengthy conversation.

Speaking about her honour, as reported by the BBC, Adjoa said: “I feel great imposter syndrome because I like what I do and drama’s the world I live in. I feel very honoured to receive the honour from Prince William. I think he’s doing amazing things for homelessness and for young people.”

Revealing what they spoke about, Adjoa added: “We talked about homelessness, because I’ve just been doing some things with St Mungo’s and young people and how we give our young people the best start in life. I’m thrilled that he’s engaged in that conversation and in a really proactive way, so that’s what we talked about.”

We’re glad to see everyone has moved on from the comment, and congratulations Adjoa!

Adjoa Andoh’s moment of collecting an MBE from Prince William carried layers of meaning that extended far beyond the ceremony itself. Known to millions around the world as Lady Danbury in Bridgerton, Andoh has built a career defined by depth, intelligence, and a willingness to speak openly about culture, history, and representation. Standing in a royal setting to receive an honour from the Prince of Wales, years after her widely discussed comments about the royal balcony, felt symbolic, reflective, and quietly powerful rather than confrontational or triumphant.

For Andoh, the honour represented recognition of decades of work across theatre, television, film, and radio. Long before Bridgerton brought her global fame, she was a respected presence on British stages, known for her classical training and her ability to inhabit complex roles with authority and emotional precision. Her career was built slowly, often without the spotlight afforded to others, shaped by perseverance in an industry that did not always make space for performers who looked like her.

Receiving an MBE acknowledged not only her success as an actress, but her contribution to British culture more broadly. Andoh has consistently used her platform to challenge assumptions, question narratives, and advocate for inclusion. Her work has always been about more than entertainment; it has been about visibility, dignity, and the right to be seen fully within national stories.

The ceremony itself was marked by calm professionalism. There were no grand statements, no visible tension, just a respectful exchange between Andoh and Prince William. Yet for many observers, the context mattered. Years earlier, Andoh had made comments questioning the lack of visible diversity on the Buckingham Palace balcony during public royal events. Those remarks sparked debate, drawing both criticism and support, and placed her at the centre of a national conversation about tradition, representation, and modern Britain.

At the time, her comments were interpreted by some as provocative, by others as necessary. Andoh herself framed them as an observation rather than an attack, reflecting on how national symbols are read by different communities. She spoke from a place of lived experience, articulating a feeling shared by many who rarely see themselves reflected in historic institutions. The reaction underscored how emotionally charged such conversations remain, particularly when they involve the monarchy.

Years on, the moment of Andoh receiving an MBE from Prince William suggested a quieter evolution rather than a dramatic reconciliation. It was not about erasing disagreement or rewriting the past, but about acknowledging contribution. The honour recognised her work as an artist, independent of political discourse, while also existing within a society still negotiating questions of identity and inclusion.

For Andoh, the ceremony did not appear to require compromise or silence. She has never suggested that receiving an honour means retreating from her views. Instead, it reinforced her belief that institutions can hold complexity, that recognition and critique are not mutually exclusive. One can question aspects of national life while still contributing meaningfully to it.

Prince William’s role in the moment was understated. As Prince of Wales, he has increasingly positioned himself as a figure aware of generational change, conscious of how the monarchy is perceived by a diverse public. The exchange between him and Andoh was courteous and professional, signalling continuity rather than conflict. There was no attempt to dramatise the encounter, and perhaps that was the point.

The significance of the moment lay in its ordinariness. An actress receiving an honour for services to drama, a prince fulfilling his ceremonial role. Yet beneath that ordinariness was a sense of progress, however incremental. The image of Andoh, a Black British woman who has spoken openly about representation, being honoured in a royal setting carried weight precisely because it did not seek to make a spectacle of itself.

Andoh’s response to the honour reflected her characteristic thoughtfulness. She spoke about gratitude, about the collaborative nature of her work, and about the importance of storytelling in shaping how societies understand themselves. She did not dwell on past controversy, nor did she deny it. Instead, she focused on the present moment, framing the honour as part of a long journey rather than a defining endpoint.

Her career illustrates that journey vividly. Trained at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School, Andoh entered an industry where opportunities for Black actresses were limited and often stereotyped. She navigated those constraints with determination, building a reputation for excellence that transcended narrow casting expectations. Her presence in classical theatre, including Shakespearean roles, challenged assumptions about who belongs in those spaces.

Bridgerton marked a turning point not just for Andoh, but for British period drama as a whole. As Lady Danbury, she brought gravitas, wit, and authority to a genre that had historically excluded actors of colour. The show’s reimagining of Regency society sparked debate, but it also opened doors, demonstrating that inclusive casting could coexist with global success.

Andoh understood the cultural significance of that shift. She spoke openly about the power of seeing oneself reflected in narratives previously closed off. Her comments about the royal balcony emerged from that same awareness: a recognition that symbols matter, that visibility shapes belonging. Whether one agreed with her or not, her words were grounded in lived experience rather than abstraction.

Receiving an MBE did not silence that perspective. If anything, it reinforced the legitimacy of her voice. Honours, after all, are meant to recognise contribution, not compliance. Andoh’s contribution includes not only her performances, but her willingness to engage thoughtfully with difficult conversations about British identity.

For many supporters, the moment felt affirming. It suggested that speaking honestly does not automatically exclude one from national recognition, that critique does not equate to disloyalty. In a cultural climate often polarised between reverence and rejection, Andoh’s experience offered a more nuanced possibility.

Critics, too, watched closely. Some viewed the honour as evidence that the monarchy is capable of listening and evolving, even if slowly. Others remained sceptical, seeing symbolism where substantive change remains incomplete. Andoh herself did not claim the moment as resolution. She has always resisted simplistic narratives, preferring complexity over closure.

The broader context of honours ceremonies adds another layer. These events often blend tradition with contemporary values, creating moments where history and modernity intersect. Andoh’s presence embodied that intersection. She is an actress rooted in classical training, yet firmly engaged with present-day cultural debates. Her honour reflected both continuity and change within British cultural life.

For Prince William, moments like this align with a broader effort to present a monarchy attuned to modern Britain. His interactions with figures like Andoh are part of that ongoing recalibration, signalling openness without overt declarations. The monarchy moves slowly, often through gesture rather than proclamation, and honours ceremonies are one of the spaces where those gestures are most visible.

Andoh’s reaction suggested awareness of that context without being consumed by it. She did not frame the honour as validation of her views or a rebuke to her critics. Instead, she accepted it as recognition of her work, leaving space for continued dialogue rather than declaring an endpoint.

Her story resonates because it refuses easy conclusions. It is not a tale of controversy neatly resolved, nor of defiance subdued. It is the story of an artist whose voice has been shaped by experience, who continues to speak thoughtfully, and whose contributions are recognised even amid disagreement.

Years on from the balcony comment, the image of Andoh receiving an MBE serves as a reminder that national life is complex and often contradictory. Institutions evolve not through single moments, but through accumulation: of voices, of challenges, of recognition. Andoh has been part of that accumulation, both through her art and her words.

As she continues her career, the honour will sit alongside, not above, the rest of her work. It does not define her, but it acknowledges her impact. For audiences, it offers an opportunity to reflect on how culture, criticism, and recognition can coexist.

Ultimately, Adjoa Andoh’s MBE ceremony was less about reconciliation and more about presence. Presence of an artist who has earned her place, presence of an institution navigating change, presence of a society still in conversation with itself. In that quiet exchange between actress and prince, there was no grand resolution, but there was recognition, and sometimes, that is where meaningful change begins.

As Adjoa Andoh stood in the ornate surroundings of the investiture ceremony, the moment carried a stillness that felt heavier than protocol and richer than symbolism alone. Time seemed to fold in on itself: decades of work, years of public conversation, moments of applause and moments of criticism all converged quietly in that single exchange. The act of receiving an MBE was not a declaration, nor an erasure of the past, but an acknowledgement that lives, careers, and nations are made of layered truths rather than simple resolutions.

For Andoh, this was never about vindication. It was about recognition of labour that began long before global fame, long before Bridgerton, and long before her words about the royal balcony echoed through public debate. It was recognition of a woman who had spent her life honing her craft, often in spaces where she was required to justify her presence simply by being there. The honour did not rewrite history, but it stood as proof that persistence, integrity, and excellence leave traces that cannot be ignored.

Emotionally, the moment carried the weight of endurance. Andoh’s career has not been shaped by ease. It has been shaped by negotiation, by moments of isolation, and by the constant need to assert complexity in an industry that has often preferred simplicity. Standing there, receiving an honour from Prince William, she represented not just herself, but countless others whose contributions have been overlooked or questioned. That presence alone spoke volumes.

The years since her royal balcony comment have not been quiet. They have been filled with debate, misunderstanding, and reflection. Andoh never retreated from the conversation, nor did she amplify it for effect. She allowed it to exist as part of her public life, neither apologising for her perspective nor allowing it to define her entirely. That restraint required strength. It required the confidence to know that one’s voice does not need constant defence to remain valid.

In that sense, the ceremony was not about reconciliation, but coexistence. It showed that critique and contribution can occupy the same space, that questioning systems does not negate one’s place within them. This is a subtle but powerful idea, particularly in a society that often frames disagreement as disloyalty. Andoh’s experience suggests another possibility: that engagement, even when uncomfortable, is a form of care.

There is a deep emotional intelligence in how she has navigated public life. Andoh understands that institutions are not monoliths, and neither are people. She has spoken about Britain as a place of multiplicity, shaped by histories that overlap and sometimes collide. Her work reflects that understanding, offering characters who are not symbols, but human beings with contradictions and depth. Receiving an MBE did not simplify that worldview; it affirmed her right to hold it.

For many watching, particularly those who saw themselves reflected in Andoh’s journey, the moment carried quiet affirmation. It suggested that speaking honestly does not disqualify you from recognition, that integrity is not incompatible with honour. This does not mean that the work is finished or that representation is complete, but it does mean that progress can be cumulative rather than absolute.

The emotional resonance of the moment also lay in its ordinariness. There were no dramatic gestures, no pointed statements, no attempts to rewrite narrative. Andoh accepted the honour with grace, acknowledging collaboration and community rather than centring herself alone. That humility underscored the substance of her career: a commitment to collective storytelling, to the idea that art is made richer through shared voices.

Prince William’s presence in that moment was equally understated. He did not represent an answer to past debates, nor did he need to. His role was ceremonial, but ceremony itself carries meaning. The monarchy often communicates through continuity rather than commentary, and this exchange fit that pattern. It did not claim resolution, but it allowed space for complexity to exist without conflict.

Emotionally, that space matters. It allows for growth without spectacle, for evolution without erasure. It acknowledges that national identity is not fixed, but negotiated over time through art, conversation, and recognition. Andoh has been part of that negotiation, not as an agitator seeking attention, but as an artist insisting on honesty.

As she left the ceremony, the honour became part of her story, not its conclusion. It joined a narrative that includes early theatre work, years of perseverance, moments of breakthrough, and moments of challenge. It did not cancel out her earlier words, nor did it validate them in any official sense. Instead, it sat alongside them, reminding us that people are not defined by single moments, but by the totality of their actions.

For Andoh herself, the emotional significance likely unfolded quietly rather than immediately. Recognition often lands slowly, revealing its meaning over time. It may surface in moments of reflection, in conversations with loved ones, or in the awareness that her work has left a mark that extends beyond screens and stages. That mark is not just professional, but cultural.

There is also a generational dimension to this moment. Younger performers watching Andoh receive an MBE may see a future that feels more open than the one she entered. They may see that speaking thoughtfully about identity and belonging does not automatically close doors. That possibility matters, even if it is imperfect and incomplete.

Emotionally, the ceremony underscored something Andoh has long embodied: dignity. Dignity in craft, dignity in speech, dignity in disagreement. She has never sought to provoke for the sake of provocation, nor to appease for the sake of acceptance. She has simply insisted on being fully herself, and that insistence has shaped a career of substance.

The phrase “years on” carries particular weight here. Time changes the texture of controversy. What once felt explosive becomes contextual, part of a larger conversation rather than its centre. Andoh allowed time to do its work, trusting that her contributions would speak louder than any single comment. The honour she received suggests that trust was not misplaced.

Yet it would be a mistake to frame this as a happy ending. Andoh herself resists such framing. Her life and work are ongoing, her perspectives evolving. The issues she has spoken about—representation, visibility, belonging—remain unresolved. The MBE does not solve them, but it acknowledges that engaging with them is part of national cultural life, not outside it.

Emotionally, that acknowledgment matters. It affirms that complexity is not something to be feared, but something to be lived with. Andoh’s journey reflects that truth. She has navigated contradiction without seeking to eliminate it, allowing her work and her voice to exist in tension when necessary.

As audiences continue to watch her on screen, particularly in roles like Lady Danbury, they bring this fuller context with them. They see not just a character, but an artist whose presence carries history, intention, and quiet courage. That awareness deepens the experience of her work, adding layers that extend beyond performance alone.

In the end, the image of Adjoa Andoh receiving an MBE from Prince William is powerful precisely because it resists simplification. It is not a symbol of defeat or victory, apology or absolution. It is a moment of recognition within a larger, ongoing story about who gets to be seen, heard, and honoured in modern Britain.

Emotionally, it invites reflection rather than reaction. It asks us to consider how societies grow—not through single gestures, but through sustained engagement. Andoh has engaged, consistently and thoughtfully, and that engagement has shaped both her career and the cultural landscape around her.

As she moves forward, the honour will travel with her, quietly, as part of her narrative rather than its headline. It will sit alongside her words, her roles, her challenges, and her achievements. It will not silence her, nor will it define her. It will simply acknowledge that she has contributed something of value.

And perhaps that is the most emotionally resonant aspect of all. In a world often eager for spectacle and resolution, this moment offered something quieter and more honest: recognition without erasure, honour without demand, and a reminder that progress often arrives not with fanfare, but with presence.