When I think about what it means to live with HIV, "glamorous" is not the first word that pops up in my head. I can think of a few others, but glamour ain't it. Those types of words are reserved for the shining lights of Hollywood, a place often fanaticized by others. Or for the celebrities that all the young girls and boys look up to. At least some glitter and diamonds. But HIV don't be giving all of that. side-eye
So it was such a peculiar space for me as I sat in the front row of the Daytime Emmy Awards earlier this summer next to Masonia Traylor and Krista Martel of The Well Project, Sybil Miller of SisterLove, and producers Sheryl Lee Ralph and Zeb Newman – all of us holding our breath to see if our documentary, Unexpected, would be announced as a winner in either of the two categories that we were nominated for. At the end, we did not come home with a statue but the experience, alone, was enough for me. I couldn't believe that we were there in the first place, an Emmy win would have probably flat-lined me.
There are not many more times that I have felt more beautiful on the inside or out, fulfilled and validated in the advocacy mission that I set out on, or aligned with what I know my purpose to be here on earth. It all felt like an unimaginable dream that I only wished could have been packaged up and that experience shared with the many, many other women who I know that are living with HIV.
This life is not always an easy one. HIV is still something that is avoided as a topic of conversation among communities who deserve to have that conversation the most. It is something that I have heard referred to as "an old person's problem". Many don't know what it even is or the ways it can be transmitted – they just know that they don't want it. When I began my HIV advocacy journey, I understood this. I accepted that I set out on a mission to empower people who are not living with HIV to stay that way and for those who are like me, living with HIV to know that they got this – that we are not in this alone. I started because I wanted to help play my role in helping others navigate this life.
And that is exactly what I have been afforded the opportunity to do. Sometimes it presents itself as creating a space back home in Philadelphia for mothers who are living with HIV to come together and build community. Other times, it may be a conversation I have on the street. Sometimes, it is simply showing up authentically as myself and doing nothing more than that.
It took me a while to process and an even longer minute to figure out what the glamour of all of this meant. I realized that it wasn't about this virus, itself. Instead, it is the appeal of our own individual triumphs and stories; the fact that we didn't give up when something major happened that would have made other people drop. Some people yearn for that hope and can only see it as attainable when they have seen it on someone else. All of us have a story, a triumph, something that may not be so glamourous at face value – but the breath in our bodies stand as a testament to the next person that hard things can be done.
So, nah – HIV ain't glamourous but the lives we live after this diagnosis is. You might not be able to see it right now but keep on living and make sure to expect the unexpected!
+Ci Ci+
