At one point in my life, having HIV meant that I would have to settle—settle in love, in life, and happiness. But in the end, it turns out I didn’t have to settle after all.

I came from a very religious family, where sex was not a part of the conversation. I was told to not do it, period, that it was a thing that only married folks got to do. I would soon find out that it actually wasn’t that way at all. I found out that I was HIV positive in 2001 when I was 19 years old. I was just getting started. At the time, all I knew was the stigma around me of what a person with HIV looked like and I did not fit the look. I wasn’t skinny, I didn’t look sick, and besides the cold I thought would never go away, I was fine. My kind of silver lining to having HIV was that I thought I might finally be able to lose weight! Boy was I wrong.

I continued with life, not really living, yet in a kind of foggy depression. I felt alone, surrounded by a sea of stillness, not being able to hear, or see, or feel anything. I wasn't honest with myself about what was going on inside my body. This feeling would last for 10 years until I finally started trying to heal myself, not from HIV but from the hurt and pain that I was going through emotionally. I spent a big portion of my youth after diagnosis using drugs, trying to numb the hurt and pain inside of me.

In 2015, I started to get sick, and at first, it wasn’t from HIV. I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and a pulmonary embolism. I also grew a 12-pound mass on my left thigh that had to be surgically removed. At the same time, the person I was with started to change for the worse. She started to physically abuse me and left her child with me when she went on her 4-day drug binges. I was also growing distant from my family. I cried constantly and asked the universe and God for help. I wanted to die. At the time, I felt like, if I was going to lose the person I was in love with, I didn’t want to continue to live. I was caught in the cycle of abuse, and I didn’t know how to get myself out.

I finally got enough courage to leave that relationship in 2016 with the help of a long-term friend named Lynn, who I secretly had been crushing on when I was going through all this. We had been friends since 2011. She was always there for me, knowing that I was having health problems. She offered to come take care of me once I got out of the rehab facility that I was in. On November 3rd, 2016, I was released from rehab and Lynn flew in. I was nervous. I knew I had to let her know about my diagnosis, but I didn’t want to lose her. We slowly rekindled our relationship, and I knew it was time to tell her about my HIV status. She was already dealing with my heart problems and lung issues. I knew once the bomb of HIV came out, she was going to run, and fly home immediately, but she didn’t. She let me know that I could live a good life even though I had HIV and that I am worthy of love. She told me that having HIV was not a death sentence, and that people were living good long lives with HIV. I didn't have to settle or be alone.

There were many times I would ask her why or how she could accept me. She would simply look at me and tease me, saying that I was an irritating person and she loved me. Period. Nothing else needed to be said.

She even started to encourage me to reach back out to family, knowing how much they meant to me. On June 1st, 2019, I married my best friend and biggest supporter. I never truly knew what happiness was until she came back in my life. I was able to bare my whole soul and trust again.

What I thought was my biggest downfall in life turned out to be the greatest blessing. Yes, my biggest blessing. It might sound weird, but if I hadn't gotten HIV, I don't think I would be the strong person I am today. HIV was truly a blessing in disguise. It made me grow up. It helped me learn to love myself and to not only put me first but chase dreams I would have left on the shelf. I am now the lead peer case manager at BABES Network, where I can help other young women cope and move forward with their diagnosis—something that I couldn’t do when I was first diagnosed.

My twenties were spent hiding and lying to myself and others, never truly being open, and always hiding my truth. I don’t have to live like that anymore. What I want you to take away from this narrative is that yes, I got HIV, but it will not kill me. I will no longer let it stop me from living. I will no longer let the stigma of the world depress me. I can still live a long time and achieve everything that I wanted to before I contracted HIV. I can focus on all the goals that I want to. When I look back on my twenties, I see someone who was trying to love herself with all of the world against her. Now I see a woman who loves herself no matter what. I have learned to forgive myself and I have also learned to forgive others for their lack of understanding. Life always throws shit at you. You just have to learn to dodge it and keep moving forward.

Never let what other people think of you stop you. Don’t let a person’s HIV status determine how you interact with them or how you picture them. And don’t judge people on how they contracted this virus. Never speak out of ignorance in a situation. You have all the control and power. Society makes it hard for you to love yourself already when you're just a regular person, but when you have a tragedy, it seems like the world is against you. It seems like you're put into a special bubble where no one wants to touch you, love you, or be around you. I think that is part of the reason it took so long for me to open up about my status.

I now have true support from my family. My siblings love me no matter what. My mother is looking for herbal remedies and lights tons of candles for me on the daily. And my beautiful wife is always encouraging me to keep striving and reach for every star I want. She recently asked me to go half on a baby with her, which is one of my dreams. I don’t think I could ask for a better partner in the world. So, like I said in the beginning, I didn’t have to settle. I just had to get past the stigma and self-hatred and blaming, to receive the wonderful life I have now! And boy is it a wonderful life!