Nineteen years ago, I never imagined that I would one day have the strength to speak openly about my status in a leading HIV magazine. But here I am.
To share your story publicly, especially with strangers, is not easy. But it's powerful. Because you never know who's listening, who's waiting for confirmation that they're not alone...
When we, as a community, have access to support, treatment, care, resources, a stake in what actually happens in our lives – we can change the trajectory of bloodlines for generations to come.
I no longer have the hatred I used to have for my friend, but I still have that trauma from before, and when I think back to that time, I cry.
It felt like a warm blanket, comforting me in moments of loneliness, sadness, depression, and anxiety. When the weight of my emotions became unbearable, alcohol was there to dull the edges.
It was from the second class that I really understood that I am HIV-positive. Since then, nothing was the same as before.
This compilation of stories is just one approach Christie's Place has made toward addressing the visibility of women living with HIV. We aim to encourage a cultural shift in harmful narratives that enable HIV-related stigma to persist.
I believe that by being open about my experience, I can help dismantle the myths and misconceptions about living with HIV. Every life has those pivotal moments, the ones that change everything.
I don't feel like myself at all. I have often heard people talk about how they lose themselves after they have kids, that's where I feel I am.
As I continue to blog and open up about my story for the first time, I hope to give readers insight into how a former barber from Rancho Cucamonga, CA turned an HIV diagnosis into the biggest blessing of her life.