The year was 1991. I was just diagnosed with HIV. I was 18 years old and my dream was to become a marine.
It feels so good to be safe. I know a couple of my blogs were pretty intense. Since I made the move and I'm running on blind faith, these things are actually coming together, coming together slowly...
I can honestly say I'm the most respected and hated person in a mile radius. Outreach is my passion since experiencing very traumatic events throughout my diagnosis of being HIV positive.
I had this image in my head of what advocacy should look like, and I often would compare the work I do, or lack there of, when it comes to how I show up for our HIV Community. What I learned is that there's no right or wrong way to advocate.
I thank God because now there are so many places where they support us—people with HIV. The workshops they offer and the tools they provide, give us a chance to lead a normal life.
At the time of this blog being published, I will be in route to Mexico in preparation for my weight loss surgery! ...It was finally time to put my health first and put my full faith in God!
What do you do when the life you want so desperately to forget collides with the life you've created? You feel.
Many may be able to relate that diagnosis day is rarely filled with happy memories. As time goes on, we cope and come to terms with our diagnosis and live out our bad ass lives, but there's still always that reminder.
Today I got the call that I have been not wanting to receive. I have known that my father has Alzheimer's, Dementia, and Parkinson's since May of 2020. It's been hard to make decisions for the person who I have felt caused me so much hurt.
I just turned 51 on April 11, and I'm still here, with all the ups and downs, but fighting like the warrior that I am.