I share the hardship, my HIV diagnosis, the moments of darkness, the joy of sharing my status, and the victory of choosing life.
Sometimes, when I am alone, I ask myself a question: Why am I so public and open about living with HIV?
Your experiences, your love, your strength — all of it matters. Even in hardship, there is light.
I want to tell you about my best friend, my baby, and the love of my life...
We all take some risk in search of companionship, and those with HIV are no exception.
For as long as I can remember, I thought survival and worth were the same damn thing. If I was needed, I mattered. If I was wanted, I was safe.
For decades, I said I didn't want children. Then I said I'd adopt. Then I went back to saying no kids at all. But if I'm being honest, those responses were rooted in trauma...
Sometimes I think of telling my son about my status, but it's not easy.
Your fellow human beings can turn into your Judas Iscariot at any moment in this lifetime. Having friends who are pretenders and when a situation changes, immediately they switch you off.
I've learned that being the center of my care team doesn't mean I have to do it all alone — it means I get to lead the conversation about my body and my healing.