When I was about 4 or 5 years old, some nights I used to be awakened by a mysterious swaying of the curtains in my room. Immediately, I would start seeing shapes that scared me a lot: deformed faces, threatening animals.
When I was diagnosed with HIV almost 17 years ago I dove head first into activism. I was angry and I needed something to do with that anger or I would have turned it onto myself. What I didn't realize is that I had already done that and what I did not know is that I would let that anger build for almost two decades before I accepted it.
Hi! My name is Cynthia Diaz and I'm sharing my story because I want others to know that having HIV is not a death sentence. With treatment, you can live a long life. It's important for people to get tested for HIV early on so they can get treated right away.
My name is Johana Quesada and I am a stay at home mom, HIV activist, artist and breathwork facilitator based in Dallas, Texas.
As part of a collaboration with our longtime partner organization Christie's Place, The Well Project will be sharing stories from their book "Healing Hope: A woven tapestry of strength and solace" as...
Ashley Nicole Richardson is a young African American Woman with an ambition like none other. Ashley has always had a passion for helping those in her community.
The flood gates have opened and I've FINALLY had the opportunity to attend USCHA, something I've longed for since shortly after my diagnosis in 2016.
I am a 59-year-old woman. Almost 8 months ago I received an HIV-positive diagnosis. Unexpected, surprising, incomprehensible, and unfair. With these four adjectives I can describe that first impact that the diagnosis generated in me.
I left home when I was 14 and I started drinking and doing drugs. I always felt like 'less' than other girls. I'd get blood tests since I was sexually active, even if I wasn't having sex all the time. I lived with the fear of sexually transmitted diseases. There were times when I would go back home and my family always greeted me lovingly.
Following our trip to California, I continued mourning my life before HIV. In the midst of the daily funerals I would have for my "old self," I was still waiting, and in some ways hoping (praying) that this was not my reality.