This past Sunday marked World AIDS Day, a time when the HIV/AIDS community comes together to honor those we’ve lost and fight like hell for the living. In reality, conversations about how to end HIV/AIDS shouldn’t be isolated to just one day or community. The only way our state and country will end the spread of HIV is with open and honest communication — the opposite of our society’s stigma and silence about the crisis. The more we openly talk and fight this crisis, the better we can eradicate it. And that’s exactly why I share my story.
I’m born and raised in Kentuckiana, which wasn’t easy for a gay kid. When I came out, I had loved ones tell me they expected an HIV diagnosis from me – a hurtful reaction to say the least. Despite that, I owned my identity and made my own way in life.
In my darkest moments, I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope, but that never meant I didn’t care about my health. I got tested for STDs every six months because I wanted to protect myself. And it’s because I got tested so regularly that when I was diagnosed as HIV positive in 2013, we caught the virus very early.
Even without symptoms, the stigma of having HIV is immediate and far reaching. From some, it was expected. But it showed up everywhere — even healthcare professionals told me I was a “risk to society.” When I was diagnosed, I was filled with fear and already dealing with so many emotions. The last thing I needed was guilt and shame.
The misconceptions and falsehoods about HIV/AIDS are more prevalent than the facts, but I was able to find a community where I could be my authentic self. I am lucky that when I moved to Louisville, I was able to connect with people at a syringe exchange who actually cared about my health and wellbeing. Only there was I able to decide for myself that I was ready to get into a treatment program and get where I am today.
I’m lucky that I was able to find my community and get the help I needed. There are far too many communities — particularly Black, brown and low-income ones — that have so few resources, they’re practically non-existent. We must change that.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be President of the United States because I wanted to make a difference in this world. I found VOCAL-KY to become an advocate, and I even work in HIV prevention now. I know my younger self would be proud of who I am today, no matter my status.
The only way we end this crisis for good is by working together and shining a light on the facts of HIV/AIDS. We need to have honest conversations and stop misconceptions in their tracks. By sharing my story, I want others to know that a diagnosis is not a crime or a death sentence. When it comes to HIV, we need to make the unmentionable mentionable.
This article appears in Nov 20 – Dec 3, 2024.
