AIDS Behaving Badly

“Girl you look so good! What have you been doing since high school? You have slimmed down, what diet are you on?” I looked at this random girl from high school dead in her eye, having never weighed over 130 pounds in my life, and said, “HIV.” A few months later I was approached by a guy I knew but had not seen in a while, and he asked, “How have you been?” I looked at him and said, “Dying.” He smiled nervously. He said, “Yeah man, I heard about that.” All I did was laugh.

Some of you are probably thinking: Marvelyn that was cold. Those people were being nice. They weren’t being nice; they were being nosy—hoping I was going to give up some info that they could run back and gossip about.

I never get the typical “What’s up?” Instead, I get the, “How’s your health?” So, if I am feeling particularly sassy, I am going to be real, or tell you what you least expect. I have HIV. Now what?

People deal with problems a little differently, but music, God, and laughter have gotten me through some tough times. I am a very kind person, so please don’t think that my every interaction with people off the street is one where my mouth is smart. Just know my name is Marvelyn, I have a best friend named Cortney and I like Skittles and Seven Jeans. I’m not just the girl with AIDS.

It is impossible to ignore the fact that I do have this disease, but it should be something that I can bring up on my terms. One way that I lessen the load is by cracking AIDS jokes. I will send text messages to my positive friends saying “HAPPY T-CELL DAY.” They laugh—they think it’s funny, too. But we wouldn’t find it funny if someone who was negative sent it. It’s like the N-word: you gotta be it to say it. Hey, I figure since the doctor told me that stress kills people living with HIV, I should spend more time laughing than complaining.

Just this summer, after waiting for a table at Red Lobster for 45 minutes. I asked the hostess to bring me some cheddar bay biscuits and some water. She explained to me that I needed to be seated and a server would have to take that order. So I looked her dead in the face and said, “I have AIDS, and I need to eat.” I wasn’t asking for an Ultimate Feast, just some bread and water so that I could take my meds. I’ve seen people with diabetes demand some bread because their blood sugar is low. Now don’t get me wrong, in no way am I saying that they are both the same, but I am not going to stay quiet about my disease. When I need those banging cheddar bay biscuits, that’s what I need.

You could take my responses to people’s questions—or need for food— as AIDS behaving badly, or you could see it like I do: Marvelyn is just standing up for herself.

“Don’t I know you?" a complete stranger said to me recently, over-excited. I looked at her dead in the eye, smiled, and told her, “You only know what you see on TV. Nice to meet you, though.” LOL.