Marvelyn's POZ Blog

Okay I can admit it. This Steve Madden loving, stiletto wearing, pretty girl looked a little different a few years ago. She used to wear all the new Jordan’s, sweat suits, jersey’s, and even a few baseball hats, and this was an everyday thing, not just sometimes. Yes I was a tomboy. In high school I was not a cheerleader or majorette or anything near it. In fact, I was a captain of the basketball team and played every sport but golf and tennis. You could not pay me to wear heels, and I kept my hair in conrows straight to the back. OMG! This is embarrassing, but it’s the truth. Of course being an athletic had it perks-- like my leg strength prepared me for the stiletto pain and my arm strength for combing out my weave-- but even more important, the competitiveness has helped me with everyday life, including living with HIV. Not to mention that in high school, I had so many cute play brothers –you know, the ones the girls chased after in the school. Looking back all my MALE friends were the same. “Hey, Marv, can you get me hooked up with your friend.” I mean I was never a candidate. I was too boyish for them and too much like one of the guys. You hear the story about the captain of the football team and the cheerleader, not the girl’s basketball captain. Come on now. That does not even sound right. Now with my stilettos, a lot more self-esteem and confidence, I feel like I am now a CANDIDATE.

Before the lights, the reporters and the TV cameras and before the diagnosis, I was a little country girl who went by the nicknames of Marv, MB and sometimes Marvelous (the last, not so often.) In fact, in my eyes, I was far from being marvelous. At school, yeah, I was known, but at home I never felt good enough. I had a bad attitude, and I was constantly acting out in school. But I was a hell of an athlete. And when I found out I was positive, I went straight basketball mode. GAMETIME. I came up with a strategy. It was simple-- kick HIV’s ass. I did not care if I was the underdog or if HIV was undefeated for 5 years in a row. I knew that if I went in there with a winning attitude, I would come away with the victory. That simple. The only difference is that this time, I’m trying to be the coach and the player. Lol. Of course sometimes, I shoot the ball and I miss, and even though I am an all-net person, sometimes the ball rolls around the rim, but hey, it goes in eventually. Trust me, I know that this is a close game. But at the end of the 4th quarter (or overtime), I HAVE THE VICTORY. That is all that counts.
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Last week was the Black Church Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS and I participated in events in Kansas City, MO and Kansas City, KA. I was the guest speaker on a six-stop high school tour sponsored by the Balm of Gilead and Calvary Community Outreach Network. The week went by pretty smoothly. The high school students soaked up the information. For me? The last school I visited brought back memories.

Rev. Gilmore introduced me at the final school on the tour, Southeast High School. During his introduction, he mentioned that I was on Oprah, BET’s 106th and Park and so on. He then told the crowd that he knew that some of them were wondering why they had to sit there and listen to an AIDS talk and that maybe they were thinking it wouldn’t relate to them. Out of the 300 students in the gym, I heard several make sounds of agreement, followed by laughter. As I walked up to the mic, my legs began to get weak and I had a flashback of being in high school. I remember being a part of that laughter and probably being in agreement with these students and my eyes began to water.

I walked up to that mic MAD. I was mad because I was right where they were five years ago. Looking out into that crowd, I saw my friends and myself. They continued to do their own thing while I stood there, playing with their PSP’s and cell phones. I usually start off my speech from the time I found myself in a hospital bed but this time was different. I started off in high school when I was just like them. When I opened my mouth and told them that I was looking into a mirror and I never cared about HIV either. That it took me to be infected with the virus to care. They got quiet.

In the middle of my speech, a girl’s cell phone rang. I was fine with it until she decided to answer it. I stopped my presentation and asked her if she was done with her call. You see she was a bit confused, thinking that I was there for me. No, baby; you see I already have HIV. I am here for you, to help make sure you do not get the virus. I had her complete attention at that time. I was not going to have it any other way. I lived my whole life thinking HIV was a word, not an acronym. I did not know it stood for something and that the something related to me.

I finished the presentation more relieved than I have ever been. I answered the typical questions: Do I still have sex and do I date? But then I was asked what HIV does to a person’s body. I told them that HIV simply lives in the blood stream and weakens the immune system. Then I told them that FOR ME, HIV is not that hard to live with. Ironically, the worst side effect is usually having to deal with ignorant and uneducated people.

Earlier this week, I had the privilege of going to the premiere of HBO’s Life Support. I was so thrilled to see AIDS on the Big Screen because I know people are STILL stuck on Philadelphia or Gia. I was happy to get to witness such a groundbreaking event. But while at the premiere, I witnessed something troubling—no, nothing to do with the movie, because it’s now at the top of Marvelyn’s must-see list. I’m talking about the red carpet before the screening. Boy, was it brutal.

I watched stars like Queen Latifah, Jamie Foxx, Russell Simmons and Traci Ellis Ross walk down the red carpet, and it was funny-- it became really clear that HIV was not on any of the reporters’ minds. Though this might seem biased, I felt like the only people talking about HIV were Real Health and POZ! I witnessed reporters receiving a page full of facts about HIV and having just one second to look at it before beginning their interviews. Thanks to the kindness of queenlatifah.com and Inside Edition, we finally found our place on the red carpet after being pushed and trampled over by the likes of Google Video. I watched the reporters call over celebrity after celebrity—while Andrea Williams, the woman who the story is based on, walked back and forth unnoticed.

I could not help but to run my mouth because the silence was killing me. (You know I can’t keep quiet.) I began talking to the reporters and telling my status. I explained to them the importance of getting the message of HIV across to their viewers. I also let them know that they could use POZ as a resource and answered any questions that they had. I was not at all trying to steal the show. But I needed to let them know that Life Support is not only just a movie—it is my reality and the reality of millions who live with this disease.

Trust and believe; speaking up made a difference.

While Inside Edition was interviewing Jamie Foxx, the reporter turned and introduced me to him, telling him my status. Jamie Foxx’s reaction was remarkable. He explained that this is why he chose to produce this film. Then came the Queen and strangely enough she recognized me from BET. I was shocked; my first thought was, “Hey, I recognize you too!”

She really did her research for her character, and she thanked me and other positive people who served as her inspiration in making this film. I knew at that moment – standing on a red carpet in blistery 23-degree weather, being thanked by Queen Latifah—
what the meaning of Life Support was for me. Those two words, ‘life’ and ‘support’ apply to everyday life, whether they are together or separate. As long as you have life, you will need support. And that is okay.

First and foremost, let’s just say that the “Down Low” phrase is overrated. And I especially take it personal when people blame the Down Low for the high rate of infection in Black women. You see I have two problems with that. First, it is bringing HIV back to a “gay man’s disease”, which that statement was never true, and then, it takes the responsibility completely off the woman. Look. As a woman living with HIV, I’ve learned this: at the time that the sexual encounter took place when I contracted HIV, absolutely nothing else was important except me protecting myself. Not his sexual orientation, nor his HIV status. I cannot blame him. I cannot blame my parents, my schools or TV. At the end of the day, I couldn’t blame anybody but myself.

I decided to do a google search on this “down low” phenomenon, and I came across this interesting site: www.InfidelityAdvice.com. I was tickled when I learned that a lady had created a “Down Low Dozen Tip Sheet”, which included tips like, “suspicious non-verbal communication with other men” - a look, a touch, or hug that lasts a little too long or has undertones of intimacy -- and my favorite: ”spends more time with his male friends than with you.” Please note she said the signs would only appear if, and when, he is cheating with another man. What kind of secret powers do she got? Oh, and I almost forgot that she had a very important announcement.

“VERY IMPORTANT:
From the time you first begin to suspect that your husband or boyfriend may be on the down low, until you have solid proof that he is not,
PRACTICE SAFE SEX FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION.

Your life and health are at stake!

You are at risk for heterosexually contracted HIV/AIDS and a host of other sexually transmitted diseases if your husband or boyfriend is having unprotected sex with other men. Please, for your own sake, do not take this information lightly!

HIV/AIDS is no joke!

Protect yourself.

Safeguard your health.

Do not become another HIV/AIDS statistic!”

WOW! Is she serious? Her first sentence was “until you have solid proof that he is not, PRACTICE SAFE SEX FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION.” A person should practice safe sex whether their husband/boyfriend is on the down low or not. The only thing she said that I agree with is “safeguard your health.” But then her “urgent” message gets even worse. “You are at risk for heterosexually contracted HIV/AIDS and a host of other sexually transmitted diseases if your husband or boyfriend is having unprotected sex with other men?” Is she sure about that? I mean she can’t be 100% correct. For one, she said “men,” when that word should clearly be singular. It only takes one time, one man. Not to mention she left out the other gender, yes women… or should I say ‘woman’. Newsflash, “expert”. HIV is passed through oral, anal and vaginal sex and sharing ALL needles. HIV does not discriminate on gender, religion, ethnicity, income, age or education. Next time you want to write about HIV, do your research. Go to poz.com and get the facts first.

I was on the train home yesterday when I saw something that sparked a memory. Usually on the ride home I see a lot of things -- from homeless people sleeping to young kids selling candy, trying to do nothing more than make a dollar. This I am used to. But yesterday, I looked up and saw a lady with a bottle full of pills. The bottle’s label had been torn off. The woman was very reserved, and she kept the bottle of pills, along with her water bottle, close. Due to high traffic on the train, I was standing while she was sitting, but I could see the whole seen. (I watch Spy Movies!) Across the aisle from her sat a guy who stared at her with the most disgusted look on his face. I looked back at the woman and saw that she was trying to take numerous pills without being noticed.

This interaction is what sparked a memory of my first ever drug regimen. I had to take two pills, two times a day, at the same time… each and every day. I hated the medicine, and I hated the fact that I usually had to take both of my doses when I was out and about in the public eye. People around you tend to get nervous. I remember having to put my meds in a Tylenol bottle and trying to make sure that everybody knew that I had a “headache.” I also remember the times that I had to be excused from class at the same time each day and swallow them in a bathroom stall because it was the only place that I could find privacy. This was actually a pretty convenient place considering the fun part of it all, SIDE EFFECTS. I would take my meds, and I would get sick only a few minutes later. I used to flush the toilet several times in a row so people would not hear me.

Three years and three regimens later, I now take my medicine once a night before I go to bed. It was hard to get to this point -- it took years of communicating with, and listening to, my doctor, Lisa Laya. I have gotten so used to the side effects now that I do not even notice that there are there. I however do notice when I do not experience them. The medicine that I take do not spell out Life for me, but they spell out Healthy Life and I think that is the message that the lady was trying to convey on the train. I love my meds and they are my best friends. Just like a best friend they make you happy and they make you sad. Sorry Cortney, do not be jealous I can have more than one best friend.