Thursday, February 2, 2012
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Dating While HIV Positive
Earlier in my adulthood, I met a guy who I actually thought was “the One.” He was charming, educated and sexy; we had great conversations and an even better friendship. But, as happens, a problem arose: He asked me to stop educating people about HIV and to cover up my AIDS-awareness ribbon and live a “normal” life. The crazy thing is that his request was not the problem; I believe in freedom of speech, and he certainly had a right to his opinion. The problem was that those words came from one of my own. No, not a Black man–one who is HIV positive.
I have never stopped dating since being diagnosed with HIV eight years ago. HIV does not limit me from doing anything. I do have options when it comes to men, and when dating, just as in the classroom, I prefer multiple choice: I date men who are HIV positive as well as those who are HIV negative. There are pros and cons to dating both.
But while I don’t discriminate because of a man’s serostatus, I would rather have sex with an HIV-positive man so that I do not have to worry about infecting him. Although I use protection, nothing is 100 percent certain, and my conscience causes me to be very careful not to transmit the virus.
On the flip side, dating an HIV-negative man means that I never feel the need to babysit: “Have you taken your meds, boo?” Nor do I have to worry who would be there for the kids if we had a family and both of us got really sick from AIDS. (Yes, people living with HIV can live long and healthy lives, but knowing this still does not stop me from having these types of thoughts.)
Positive men seem to understand what I go through; for instance, I take my medication every day, but I do not like it or the side effects, and I constantly complain. An HIV-positive man will usually say to me, “I know, baby, it is hard. But you know what you need to do.” An HIV-negative man tends to say, “Girl, quit complaining and take your medicine”–as if he knows what it feels like to take 2,555 pills a year! That is, HIV-positive men tend to say something motivational, while HIV-negative men often piss me off. Then again, HIV-negative men seem to believe that the fact that I share my story means I am very honest and open. They like that about me. Sometimes HIV-positive men believe I’m too open. It’s like I can’t win. My ideal guy would exhibit the best characteristics of both types of men.
But no matter who I’m dating, people assume that the men I date are HIV positive, too, because I talk about my HIV status on national TV. These men wish that people wouldn’t make that assumption, and they certainly don’t want to be questioned about it. I have yet to meet an HIV-positive man who is where I am about my HIV diagnosis: open and honest. And one HIV-negative guy I was involved with told me he would never be able to date in Nashville again because he had messed with me. (Take note: We were still together when he said it. Lame!)
Being public about my HIV status has definitely had an impact on my dating life, but I continue to educate people about the disease. No matter what type of guy I am with, relationships are hard work. And that is exactly why, at least for now, I am single and still trying to mingle.
via Black AIDS
I have never stopped dating since being diagnosed with HIV eight years ago. HIV does not limit me from doing anything. I do have options when it comes to men, and when dating, just as in the classroom, I prefer multiple choice: I date men who are HIV positive as well as those who are HIV negative. There are pros and cons to dating both.
But while I don’t discriminate because of a man’s serostatus, I would rather have sex with an HIV-positive man so that I do not have to worry about infecting him. Although I use protection, nothing is 100 percent certain, and my conscience causes me to be very careful not to transmit the virus.
On the flip side, dating an HIV-negative man means that I never feel the need to babysit: “Have you taken your meds, boo?” Nor do I have to worry who would be there for the kids if we had a family and both of us got really sick from AIDS. (Yes, people living with HIV can live long and healthy lives, but knowing this still does not stop me from having these types of thoughts.)
Positive men seem to understand what I go through; for instance, I take my medication every day, but I do not like it or the side effects, and I constantly complain. An HIV-positive man will usually say to me, “I know, baby, it is hard. But you know what you need to do.” An HIV-negative man tends to say, “Girl, quit complaining and take your medicine”–as if he knows what it feels like to take 2,555 pills a year! That is, HIV-positive men tend to say something motivational, while HIV-negative men often piss me off. Then again, HIV-negative men seem to believe that the fact that I share my story means I am very honest and open. They like that about me. Sometimes HIV-positive men believe I’m too open. It’s like I can’t win. My ideal guy would exhibit the best characteristics of both types of men.
But no matter who I’m dating, people assume that the men I date are HIV positive, too, because I talk about my HIV status on national TV. These men wish that people wouldn’t make that assumption, and they certainly don’t want to be questioned about it. I have yet to meet an HIV-positive man who is where I am about my HIV diagnosis: open and honest. And one HIV-negative guy I was involved with told me he would never be able to date in Nashville again because he had messed with me. (Take note: We were still together when he said it. Lame!)
Being public about my HIV status has definitely had an impact on my dating life, but I continue to educate people about the disease. No matter what type of guy I am with, relationships are hard work. And that is exactly why, at least for now, I am single and still trying to mingle.
via Black AIDS
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Beginning of a New Life
I found out that I was HIV positive in 2003. By then treatments had advanced to the point where one could choose to live with the disease when just a decade earlier it was something you’d most likely die from. Despite the fact that I had lifesaving medicines available to me, I was torn between accepting treatment and wallowing in my own denial and shame. Suddenly, the life that I’d envisioned for myself—one that included romance, health and family—was plagued with uncertainty, loneliness and stigma. For a long time I pushed my dreams aside, believing that I couldn’t live a full life with HIV. But eventually I worked through my shame, and the strength I gained allowed me to create new dreams.
Today I am healthy and living with HIV in an open, humble and confident way. Each day, I work hard to empower young women who naively believe that Prince Charming will protect them and keep his word—women who generation after generation put themselves at risk only to end up raising children alone, struggling to pay bills, and facing life’s challenges without the skills needed to compete.
My struggle has taught me that—as a woman—I am the architect of my destiny. HIV shattered my dreams but it also helped me rebuild them. Since my diagnosis, I have learned the importance of self-love and self-acceptance. For me, HIV was the beginning of the end: it was the end of shame, self-hatred, and irresponsibility, and the beginning of a new life.
Over the past 30 years, many brave people living with HIV and others fighting on our behalf have created a new reality—one in which I can proudly say that I have a real T4 cell count of 1,274 and an undetectable viral load.
via Black AIDS Annual Report "30 Years Is Enuf"
Today I am healthy and living with HIV in an open, humble and confident way. Each day, I work hard to empower young women who naively believe that Prince Charming will protect them and keep his word—women who generation after generation put themselves at risk only to end up raising children alone, struggling to pay bills, and facing life’s challenges without the skills needed to compete.
My struggle has taught me that—as a woman—I am the architect of my destiny. HIV shattered my dreams but it also helped me rebuild them. Since my diagnosis, I have learned the importance of self-love and self-acceptance. For me, HIV was the beginning of the end: it was the end of shame, self-hatred, and irresponsibility, and the beginning of a new life.
Over the past 30 years, many brave people living with HIV and others fighting on our behalf have created a new reality—one in which I can proudly say that I have a real T4 cell count of 1,274 and an undetectable viral load.
via Black AIDS Annual Report "30 Years Is Enuf"
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The Accidental Activist
I stood in the huddle during a time-out of a vicious basketball battle against a rival high school as the coach told us that the game-winning shot should go to our team captain. Once the time-out was over, I in-bounded the ball to her. Our captain was heavily guarded yet ran the play. When she realized that I was wide open and had the better shot, she passed the ball back to me. As the clock wound down, I looked at the basket, then I passed the ball right back to her. Before she caught my pass, the clock ran out. They won. I'd blown the game.
I had been capable of making the game-winning shot, but I hadn't had confidence in myself. In those days I was not a leader: The captain had more faith in me than I'd had in myself. And winning felt uncomfortable to me. I would rather cost us the game than win.
As a result of consistently hearing that I was not good enough from teachers and my mom, I felt like a failure back then. The fact that I was one of the best defensive players in the state of Tennessee just wasn't enough for my mom. She would overlook that and tell me that I was not excelling on offense. She wanted me to excel at both. No matter what I did, I heard only what I was doing wrong. In many areas of my life, I became scared to succeed, and comfortable with failing.
Then, at 19, I found out that I had HIV. Not knowing about the stigma that surrounded the virus, I told five people, but within weeks, hundreds knew of my HIV status. Immediately, family and friends disowned me, and before I knew it I was alone. People went from telling me that I was not good enough to telling me my life was over.
But even though people counted me out, God did not. God believed in me when I did not believe in myself.
Now that no one was around to give me their opinion, the only person's opinion that mattered was mine. Being alone helped me come to terms with my true self. I was okay with who I was; it was everyone else who had the problem. They say that you don't know how strong you are until you have no choice. Well, I grew tired of being told, "You are dying" and "You are getting skinny and ugly." The fighter in me came out.
Since so many people knew my status and everybody had something to say about it, I decided to put my story in the statewide newspaper. I wanted to prove them wrong: I was growing into a beautiful young woman, and I was healthy. Looking back on it now, putting my story in the paper was selfish. But I was tired of listening to other people's negative thoughts and knew that if I told my story myself, I could stop all the gossip.
The story was published in October 2003. I used my real name, and the article included pictures of me participating in everyday life, from me at the gym to me sitting and thinking. The rumors stopped, and people started getting educated about HIV. I'd thought, if anything, that because of the article, people would find more negative things to say about me. I'd had no idea that they would call me a hero and an inspiration.
For much of my life, I had fed upon negative energy. I'd been unaware of my strengths and too scared to tap into the ones that I knew about. But once the article came out, my purpose became clear and I discovered that I am a born leader. I began to grow more confident. Today I use my personal story as a tool for helping others.
Sometimes I think back on that basketball game that I blew and how far I've come as a result of this big disease with a little name. I now understand that I had the potential to lead--we all do. I just did not have the heart that I do today. Take me back to the game now--five seconds on the clock, ball in my hand--and I guarantee you, we win!
via Black AIDS
I had been capable of making the game-winning shot, but I hadn't had confidence in myself. In those days I was not a leader: The captain had more faith in me than I'd had in myself. And winning felt uncomfortable to me. I would rather cost us the game than win.
As a result of consistently hearing that I was not good enough from teachers and my mom, I felt like a failure back then. The fact that I was one of the best defensive players in the state of Tennessee just wasn't enough for my mom. She would overlook that and tell me that I was not excelling on offense. She wanted me to excel at both. No matter what I did, I heard only what I was doing wrong. In many areas of my life, I became scared to succeed, and comfortable with failing.
Then, at 19, I found out that I had HIV. Not knowing about the stigma that surrounded the virus, I told five people, but within weeks, hundreds knew of my HIV status. Immediately, family and friends disowned me, and before I knew it I was alone. People went from telling me that I was not good enough to telling me my life was over.
But even though people counted me out, God did not. God believed in me when I did not believe in myself.
Now that no one was around to give me their opinion, the only person's opinion that mattered was mine. Being alone helped me come to terms with my true self. I was okay with who I was; it was everyone else who had the problem. They say that you don't know how strong you are until you have no choice. Well, I grew tired of being told, "You are dying" and "You are getting skinny and ugly." The fighter in me came out.
Since so many people knew my status and everybody had something to say about it, I decided to put my story in the statewide newspaper. I wanted to prove them wrong: I was growing into a beautiful young woman, and I was healthy. Looking back on it now, putting my story in the paper was selfish. But I was tired of listening to other people's negative thoughts and knew that if I told my story myself, I could stop all the gossip.
The story was published in October 2003. I used my real name, and the article included pictures of me participating in everyday life, from me at the gym to me sitting and thinking. The rumors stopped, and people started getting educated about HIV. I'd thought, if anything, that because of the article, people would find more negative things to say about me. I'd had no idea that they would call me a hero and an inspiration.
For much of my life, I had fed upon negative energy. I'd been unaware of my strengths and too scared to tap into the ones that I knew about. But once the article came out, my purpose became clear and I discovered that I am a born leader. I began to grow more confident. Today I use my personal story as a tool for helping others.
Sometimes I think back on that basketball game that I blew and how far I've come as a result of this big disease with a little name. I now understand that I had the potential to lead--we all do. I just did not have the heart that I do today. Take me back to the game now--five seconds on the clock, ball in my hand--and I guarantee you, we win!
via Black AIDS
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
MARVSPIRATIONAL
Marvelyn + Inspirational = MARVSPIRATIONAL
I am happy to announce my online boutique, MARVSPIRATIONAL. MARVSPIRATIONAL consists of shirts, buttons, key chains and etc that have inspirational sayings that I love and use in interviews and speaking engagements everywhere. All of the proceeds go to sponsor my organization, MARVELOUS CONNECTIONS.
Some of the quotes include, "I am beautiful not AIDS" and "I am all things Marvelous!"
Shopping just became inspirational. SHOP, ENJOY AND BE INSPIRED!"
WWW.MARVSPIRATIONAL.COM
I am happy to announce my online boutique, MARVSPIRATIONAL. MARVSPIRATIONAL consists of shirts, buttons, key chains and etc that have inspirational sayings that I love and use in interviews and speaking engagements everywhere. All of the proceeds go to sponsor my organization, MARVELOUS CONNECTIONS.
Some of the quotes include, "I am beautiful not AIDS" and "I am all things Marvelous!"
Shopping just became inspirational. SHOP, ENJOY AND BE INSPIRED!"
WWW.MARVSPIRATIONAL.COM
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Dating is not a fairy tale!
I grew up watching all of the Disney princess movies, and dreamed that one day I would find my own Prince Charming. Well, I found the man I thought was Prince Charming, but the relationship did not work out. And he gave me HIV. But when does make-believe ever come true? I am now looking for the guy who is right for me.
I discovered that I was HIV positive seven years ago, in 2003. Since then I have learned a lot about what it means to value myself. Ironically, it's been the information I've learned and the experiences I've had since getting the virus that have caused my self-confidence, self-love and sense of independence to shoot through the roof. All of this started when I began to understand that I have value. Not only do I now have a strong sense of self-worth, but I am proud of the amazingly strong woman I have evolved to be.
Of course, most people assume that because I have HIV, I have not been in a relationship. I can assure you that this is not the case. I have had several takers--men who are HIV positive and men who are HIV negative. But unlike during my pre-HIV days, I am no longer impressed with bling-bling and fancy cars. I no longer believe in fairy tales or fairy tale endings. And I am definitely not desperate to have a man.
Before, men used to think my body was sexy; today they are attracted to my positive characteristics. I used to feel good when the man I was seeing told me he loved me. Now I laughingly say, "You should. What is there not to love about me? But thank you for communicating, baby. Kisses!" I used to get chills up and down my spine when a man told me I was beautiful. Now I answer: "I already know that, but thank you for reassuring and reminding me, baby. Hugs!"
I do not settle just because I have HIV. In fact, I would not dare date someone whom I would not date if I were HIV negative. A man actually had a better chance of getting a date with me before I had HIV. These days, I am picky and have standards, and any man I'm going to have a relationship with needs to fulfill all of them. Since I have come to embody strength, courage, beauty and ambition, why would I settle for a man who is lacking in those areas? I need a man with goals and dreams.
After a speaking engagement, a young woman approached me and asked, "Do you think that when you get a man, he will be jealous that you call the guy who infected you 'Prince Charming'?" I told her that I would only date a guy who had enough sense to know that Prince Charming is a fictional character. Make-believe. He is not real. I need a man whose flaws I accept and whose heart of gold I admire, not to entertain a fantasy about who that man really is.
via Black AIDS
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Deciding Moment: Marvelyn
Go to GREATER THAN to find other stories and to share your Deciding, when you felt Greater Than AIDS.
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