HIV and My Romantic Relationships

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I've never had much luck in my romantic relationships. For a long time, I was obsessed with the idea of being loved by a man. In my search for love outside of myself, I often forgot to protect myself. Today, with hindsight, I regret some decisions and some situations I found myself in, not because I was "bad," but because I was naive, vulnerable, and lacking affection.

I know people living with HIV who are able to find love easily. For me, it has often been the opposite.

Being an orphan left me with an emotional void that I long tried to fill through relationships. I didn't have real guidance or advice. I couldn't talk about these subjects with my family, out of fear of judgment. So I learned on my own, through my mistakes.

I've often been told that being HIV-positive doesn't prevent you from living, loving, or being loved. I wanted to believe it. But in reality, not everyone has the same understanding or kindness. I've experienced harsh rejection, hurtful words that deeply wounded me.

At one point in my life, after disclosing my HIV status, I faced great cruelty. On top of rejection, my intimacy was used as a means of pressure. I was threatened with personal images taken without my consent, solely to frighten me and silence me. This episode was deeply traumatic and taught me just how cruel some people can be.

I know that the more I force love, the more I risk repeating the same mistakes I made when I was naive.

From that moment on, I closed myself off and became more wary of relationships. Despite this, disappointments continued. Sometimes I pushed people away out of fear, and other times I accepted relationships that weren't good for me. I was also trying to understand the pleasure everyone talked about, to experience what my friends shared. But I found neither emotional safety nor peace in it. Often, I felt empty afterward, sometimes even bad about myself.

Over time, I began to see myself as someone to be approached, used, and then discarded. This perception hurt me deeply and affected my self-esteem. The environment I was in didn't always help: judgments came quickly, rumors spread easily, and everything could be distorted. I realized that certain aspects of my private life could be used against me if I wasn't careful.

Three years ago, I decided to stop.

To stop forcing myself to love.

To stop believing that love had to necessarily happen in my life.

I'm not completely closing the door on love.

I came to accept that maybe I would never meet "true love." That is my inner reality today. Maybe this vision will change someday; I don't know when, and I no longer put pressure on myself. I now refuse to force things. I know that the more I force love, the more I risk repeating the same mistakes I made when I was naive. And I don't want to go through that again.

Today, I choose to protect myself.

Sometimes people flirt with me, but I don't commit because I don't feel ready. I'd rather stay alone than lose myself again in relationships that hurt me.

I'm not completely closing the door on love. Maybe one day it will come to me naturally. Maybe not. I don't know.

But for now, I focus on myself, on my future, on rebuilding my life. I try to give meaning to my life, to become someone tomorrow, before wanting to be "someone for someone else."