This year didn't come to teach lessons. It came to test endurance.
Let’s be honest — this year was a lot of bullsh*t. 🐂💩
Not the kind you learn from neatly.
The kind that drags you, humbles you, and dares you to quit halfway through. 😤
If you live with HIV or AIDS, you already know. This year didn't come with motivational quotes or glow-up arcs. It came with labs, appointments, side effects, stigma, people saying the wrong thing (or saying nothing at all), and moments where staying alive felt like the only thing on the to-do list.
And if that's all you did?
Good.
That was enough. 🫶🏼
Some of us yelled.
Some of us disappeared.
Some of us did both — and felt guilty either way.
Here's the truth: surviving quietly is still surviving. You don't owe anyone your pain packaged in a way that makes them feel comfortable.
You can be undetectable and still pissed off.
You can be "stable" and still barely holding it together.
You can love your life and still hate how hard you have to fight for it.
All of that can exist at the same damn time. 🧠💥
If you were diagnosed this year — listen to me:
You are not broken goods.
You didn't "mess up."
Your life isn't over — it just took a sharp turn you didn't ask for.
And that sh*t is scary. Pretending it didn't f*ck you up doesn't make you brave. Acting unfazed is just another way we're taught to suffer. 💔
And let's not pretend this year didn't come with real fear — the kind that keeps you up at night. Policies shifting. Funding getting cut. Programs disappearing. The quiet panic of wondering if the meds, the care, the support you depend on will still be there tomorrow.
Some of us felt that fear louder than others. None of us are imagining it.
Add the holidays on top of that — the isolation, the empty seats, the feeling of being forgotten — and yeah, it can get heavy fast. If that's where you are right now, hear this: you are not alone. You are not disposable. You are part of a sisterhood that knows how to survive uncertainty — because we've been doing it for years. ❤️🩹
If you've been carrying this for years... decades...
I see you. Even when you're tired of being strong. Even when you don't want to explain one more f*cking thing to anyone ever again.
And if you stepped back this year — from advocacy, from posting, from being the "educational one" — good. Rest is not quitting. Protecting your peace is not a moral failure. 🌿
Going into a new year, I don't want us chasing "inspirational." I want us choosing real. Messy. Honest. Boundaries over burnout. Silence when needed.
No tidy ending.
No lesson wrapped in a bow.
Just this:
We're still here.
Despite the stigma.
Despite the bullsh*t.
And honestly — that's everything. ❤️🩹
With love, and wishing you blessings as we step into whatever comes next,
XO Cupcake
Thank you for trusting me with that. 🖤
And I need you to hear this clearly: stepping back was not a failure. It was self-preservation.
There is no timeline on healing. No deadline for being “ready.” Advocacy isn’t a switch you flip — it’s something you come back to when you have the capacity, and sometimes that capacity comes in waves. Forcing yourself to re-engage when you’re still carrying fresh and old trauma is heavy… and the fact that you’re even trying says a lot.
These are hard times. And sometimes surviving really is the work. That doesn’t make you less committed, less strong, or less worthy of space here. You don’t owe anyone constant output to belong.
Move at your own pace. Rest when you need to. We’re still here — and we’re not going anywhere. Sending you so much love right back. 💜🧁