I was covered head to toe in red blotches and spots (Picture: Darren Black)
Between the grey walls, dull PowerPoint presentation and rain splattering on the window, I’d been about to fall asleep at my trade union meeting.
And then Thierry walked in.
With turquoise eyes to swim in and a defiant jawline encasing the softest lips, there was no denying that he was wildly gorgeous.
When he spoke, a soft Parisian accent floated across the room and suddenly, we were all alert.
As Thierry shared his experience of igniting bold, creative and law-changing campaigns from Paris to Hackney on LGBTQ+, HIV+, anti-racism and sex-workers rights, I was instantly mesmerised.
Yet, as much as I cared about changing the world too, I was focussed on two things…
One: could I get his number? And two: would I be able to unlock the secret that was eating me up from inside to him – and how would he react?
Five years earlier in 2005 a rash had spread around my body in a flash. I was covered head to toe in red blotches and spots.
The rash was an indicator of HIV (Picture: Racehl Adams)
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At the time I thought it was a really bad bout of flu. My housemate knew better though and rushed me to the doctors to get blood tests and I was swiftly called back for results.
Turns out, I was ‘seroconverting’ – when the body produces antibodies in response to a virus – and the rash was an indicator of HIV.
Because of the Section 28 law, I’d never heard about HIV in school, or the need to look after or protect myself as a queer person, or anything so silly and dignified, so I had no idea of the signs.
In fact, my only frame of reference was from watching the falling AIDS tombstone adverts stating ‘Don’t Die of Ignorance’ or my beloved EastEnders where Mark Fowler sped off on his motorbike after seeing ‘AIDS Scum’ graffitied on his wall. The images that defined a generation.
I locked my heart in a box and the whole reality of HIV just hit me (Picture: ACT UP London)
My HIV+ diagnosis felt like a bombshell. I genuinely never thought I would be healthy, fall in love or have sex again without five bin bags strapped to my dick. I was devastated, lonely and depressed.
Attempting to date, I heard all manner of ignorant comments: ‘Can we share a sandwich?’ or ‘Do I need to medically clean the toilet after you use it?’ So soon I gave up.
I locked my heart in a box and the whole reality of HIV just hit …read more
Source:: Metro
