Today is World AIDS Day, and I’m always reminded of how blessed  I am to still be there. I wrote this entry 7 years ago after my diagnosis. It was June 27, 2011. I remember the emotions, and I relive this memory often. I tell this story every year for those who can’t tell their own because of fear. I’m creating this space in the hope that sharing this journey of the ups, downs, highs, and lows, will result in helping others to become brave enough to join in the fight to end the stigma.  We find strength when we live in our truths and conquer our fears head on. This is my story.

Diagnostic

It was a regular Monday.. So I thought. I’ve always been an advocate of my friends being tested for STD’s and just knowing their statuses. This Monday came with the realization that I had no clue who the fuck I was anymore. I’d always considered myself careful by being monogamous. My fingers on one hand exceed the number of sexual partners I’ve had in my 28 years. This test was supposed to be a quick routine stop on my day, so I could post my results on my refrigerator in pride, knowing that I had done the right thing by being tested. I’d wave my banner and go on running errands.

“Sir we need to test you again. We got a preliminary positive..” *heart sinks*

“Sir the second test came out positive as well. We need to send you to our extensive clinic to do a third confirmatory test” *numbness*

I think I was numb all day. Blood work. Needle pricks. Counselors. Social Workers. Sexual History. Nurses. Lab Technicians. Doctors. Everything. Is. A. Blur.

The only thing I remember saying to myself is that this cannot be happening to me. I’m not a whore. I don’t fuck a lot of different people. God are you sure this is right? I know this isn’t a punishment for promiscuity, but why did it have to happen to me?

Then there were tears. Nothing audible. Just tears.  The anxiety sent my blood pressure up, leading me to the emergency room, where I had to confess for the first time that I was HIV +. (still sounds funny to say.) Four hours of random thinking and I ended up alone in my home, eating a single from Wendy’s, afraid to fall asleep because this day seemed like the biggest fucking nightmare in my existence. Who would I tell? How would I tell them? It was too much to sort out for one night.

Then came the fear. Will anyone ever love me again? Will I be alone? How could I let this happen to myself? What will my friends say?

My best friend came right along and said, “This is not a death sentence. You’ve got a long life to live.”

Another friend echoed, “You can do one of two things with this information. You can let it destroy you, or you can accept it, learn all you can, and be the healthiest you possible.”

So, I’ve decided to be an advocate. To take my story, my life, and my journey and use it to help as many people as I possibly can. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m not sure where this road will take me, but I’ll share myself in hopes that someone, somewhere will learn to be even more careful than I thought I was. I look forward to sharing this with you…

All I know is that for my own sake, I will not live in fear..

Whew….

Whenever I go back and read this post, I cringe at the stigmas I was already carrying for persons living in HIV. This hatred for people who didn’t make the “right” choices was embedded in my own ideology as if I was above the disease because of my own sexual practices. I had to fix a lot of my own mindsets and wrestle with the fact that HIV wasn’t what I thought it was. I made a promise to myself to advocate 7 years ago, and I’ve slighted myself in living up to that expectation. The buck stops here. These moments I share with you will be the highs and lows. I hope to shed light on the humanity so people who live with this know they don’t have to deal alone. I’ll be as vulnerable and transparent as emotionally possible, so that someone out there dealing with this, will know they are not alone.

I leave you with this.

Love yourself enough to get tested. Love your friends enough to encourage them to do the same. Love yourself enough to know your status. There’s freedom in our truths. We can educate ourselves and others. Together we can end the stigma. Welcome to this journey.