November 2006 Archives

For the past week I have been asked the same question, “Marvelyn, what does World AIDS Day mean to you?” Honestly I have to agree with MAC on this one: every day is World AIDS Day. However, it makes me sad to see that some people only want to talk about AIDS on December 1st. Meanwhile people around the world are becoming infected and dying from the disease daily.

I am grateful for the World AIDS Day programs and events that raise awareness, but what happens on December 2nd? I want to see AIDS talked about all the time and in the same way I see those eye-catching beer commercials that make you laugh or those movie trailers that remind you that that the hot new Denzel flick is coming out. Picture this: One summer day, you are sitting with your girls eating popcorn in the theatre, waiting for the movie to start and that guy who does all the trailers says, “Coming to a theatre near you…H-I-V.” Would you pay attention?

Last October, I was headed to Tuskegee to speak for The Black AIDS Institute. As the plane was delayed on the runway, my mouth began to get dry. One reason was because I’m scared to fly and another was because they made me throw my Pepsi away at the security checkpoint. Finally, in the air when the plane reached 10,000 feet, the flight attendant came over the intercom and said, “In support of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, the proceeds from each $2.00 can of pink lemonade will be given to breast cancer research. But do not worry if you are a drinker, you can purchase a pink martini for $5.00.”

At that moment, I thought back to the times when I wanted to tell people I had cancer instead of HIV because I felt that people would respect me more. People would glance at the small red ribbon tattooed on my left risk and I would say to myself, “What am I going to tell them?” Depending on whether I was in public or by myself, I would tell them it was in support of breast cancer. At that time, I was so scared to reveal my HIV status to random people—you never know what their reaction will be. Are they going to cause a scene? Or give you that look of, “I wonder what she did to get it?”

I’ve found that people have more sympathy for people living with breast cancer than they do for people living with HIV. I know that breast cancer has come a long way from its days of silence and stigma. I hope that HIV can follow.

Maybe next year when I am traveling, on World AIDS Day or not, the flight attendant will tell the passengers over the intercom, “The proceeds from each $2.00 can of tomato juice will be given to AIDS research. If you’re a drinker, don’t worry, you can get a Bloody Mary for $5.00.”

Many people ask me how HIV has affected my dating life and say how hard it must be to date with the virus. Honestly, dating was an issue for me way before I contracted HIV. When I was younger, boys did not want to commit and now, men are the same way. I cannot lie; HIV has taken men out of my life who are only focused on sex. Don’t get me wrong: I have dated and been in a few serious relationships—mostly with HIV negative men—since my diagnosis. But it has often been a rough and lonely road.

You see, it’s one thing to be HIV positive—but it’s an entirely different ballpark when you’re open about your status and out in the public eye. I have had issues with both guys who are positive and those who are HIV negative. You might think that I would have better luck with the guys that are HIV positive, but it is the opposite. A lot of times, the positive guys that I try to date are not on the same level as I am when it comes to disclosing their HIV status. Often, their friends and family don’t have a clue that they’re HIV positive. Once, I was madly in love with a guy whose mother would not let us date because the rest of his family did not know that he was positive. She thought that by dating me, his status would be revealed.

As for negative guys, I just don’t know whom to trust. If I am interested in a guy I always disclose my status within hours of meeting him. The majority of them are shocked. One guy even said, “If you did not want to talk to me, that is all that you had to say.” Believe it or not, some guys are still willing to move forward.

At first, I wanted to believe that if I told a man that I was HIV positive, and he still wanted to be involved with me, then he must like me as a person and wants to get to know me better. I found out very quickly that was not always true—just because they’re not worried about my status does not mean that we will have a fairy tale ending. Once I dated a negative man whose father had died from the virus 10 years ago. I thought that he would be more knowledgeable about HIV, but he didn’t know anything. When it came down, he was ashamed of me and the fact that I had HIV. The fact of the matter is that I can have a relationship with an HIV negative person and as long as we practice safe sex, meaning through education, communication and protection, we are good.

I have come to realize that I am only 22 years old, and I have a whole life to live. When I was first diagnosed, I wanted to rush and get married and have a family because I was scared that it would not happen. Not because I was afraid I would die—but because I thought no one could love me with HIV. These days, I am focusing on Marvelyn and trying to make sure that she is the best person that she can be for her and the lucky man that will win her over in the future. So am I dating or waiting? I think I’m doing a bit of both—because I will never pass a GOOD MAN up.

Honestly, if it was not for my family and friends, I do not know where I would be. So I decided to dedicate a blog to them. Don’t get me wrong -- when I was first diagnosed; I thought that my family was against me. I actually thought the whole world was against me. My family and friends told to keep my HIV status a secret, and that I would be judged. I felt that their telling me to keep quiet meant they did not love or accept the person that I had become. In reality, they were just trying to protect me from stigma and discrimination. Who would have thought?

Through it all, one person stood beside me the whole time: my best friend, Cortney Sweatt. At first, I did not understand why she was still there and treating me as if I had not told her that I had HIV. I’d gotten used to the negative reactions, and I wanted to accuse her of not wanting to deal with my situation. It took me a while, but I finally figured out what set Cortney apart. When it came down to it, she was educated enough to know that she could be my friend and not catch HIV. She also knew that just as easily as it had happen to me, it could happen to her, too. Not many people felt this way, but the same goes for my friends Shay Dixon and Lanetta Mayes. These three are my ONLY friends that I had before HIV that I still have the same relationship with afterwards. One night, I was out with my friends, and we were in the middle of the dance floor. I was so scared to dance with a cute guy that I saw, because I was scared that someone would yell out “Look at him dancing with the girl with AIDS!” I told Shay that night that I had HIV and I knew she had my back 100% and suddenly I was not so nervous. Lanetta is another friend who’s always been there for me. She found out my status from the “street committee” that enjoyed spreading the news around that I was positive. Lanetta put the “street committee” out of business, and she worked to make sure that I was all right. These three girls may not know how I feel about them, or may not think it is that serious, but all of their actions meant a lot to me and made a world of a difference in my future.

I can admit now that I had my guard up trying to protect my heart…I still do. But I am wise enough to know that my family has always loved me and never disowned me. It just felt that way at first. But when it came down to it, a lot of them were not educated-- and evidently neither was I. The biggest lesson I learned was to put family first the same way that did me when they were trying to protect me. Just like HIV, family is something that you have to work at. I am not perfect, and neither is my family, but I am so grateful for mine. I love you mom, grandma, aunt Beverly, my sisters Tab and Monet, my nieces, Diamond and Jamiya and my nephew Jamarius. Rest In Peace to my daddy who died in late June of this year.

“You are HIV positive.”
“You are HIV Positive.”
“You are HIV POSITIVE.”

Those words that the doctor said play over and over, again in my head,
But I know with family and friends around, the virus, I will always stay one step ahead.