I’m manifesting it. I have taken all the necessary precautions, and I’m just going for it. Why is this such a big deal for me? Because up until now, I haven’t felt like I could take all necessary precautions due to where I was previously living — a state that didn’t regard me as worthy of rights.
I’ll tell you what I’m talking about. Just last week, I started Prep, which, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a preventative medicine for people who are at higher risk of engaging with someone who is HIV-positive. Since I am a gay man, and we are significantly at a higher risk of contracting HIV, this was a big step for me.
Unfortunately, I didn’t feel safe enough to go to a physician in Arkansas to even discuss my sexual history. In the past, I went to clinics in Little Rock and felt judged the moment I divulged that I slept with men instead of women. It’s for that reason that I remained celibate for an entire year, unsure if I could go to an LGBTQ-friendly clinic but feeling irresponsible for engaging in sexual acts without truly knowing my status. I wanted to take all necessary precautions before I became sexually active again, but it felt impossible in a state that saw me as a freak.
It’s for this same reason that so many LGBT people in the South don’t check their status, as they don’t feel truly safe to divulge those kinds of personal details to those who are supposed to remain unbiased in healthcare settings (Even though it’s their job, for crying out loud).
Snowball that with the fact that certain families aren’t accepting of an LGBT person’s “lifestyle”. How does that impact their healthcare? Some LGBT people’s families literally cut them off their family insurance because they don’t agree with the fact that they’re living their life. Other LGBT people live in fear that their family will see charges for certain checkups on their insurance bill every month, and for that reason, they simply don’t go, because they don’t want Mom and Dad knowing they got on Prep while on their family insurance plan.
Snowball that with unsafe sex practices, and boom. You have an entire population of LGBTQ people in the South who are HIV positive and/or possess multiple STI’s (sexually-transmitted infections), but they won’t ever know because they don’t feel they can go to a clinic and receive a proper analysis from an LGBTQ-friendly physician. Some die, while others wait until symptoms show up to actually go to a clinic and get treated, when all (or some) of it could have been avoided by a single doctor’s appointment.
I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. I’ve avoided clinic visits. I’ve avoided STI testing because I didn’t feel I lived in a climate in which I was safe enough to protect myself. Thankfully, I never contracted anything, but that’s not the case for everyone.
This hiding, this culture of avoidance I’ve reaped for myself, stops this year. I live in NYC now, where I feel I can step into my sexual power finally. It is for that reason that I got on Prep this week — because I’m going to have amazing sex this year. I got on Prep because I’m taking every precaution to ensure that I have safe sex. Does that still mean I’m going to wear a condom? Of course. Does that still mean I’m going to get tested for STI’s every three months? Also yes. Just because I’m on Prep doesn’t mean all my problems disappear. I still have to make sure I’m protecting myself and others in these other ways as well.
So, thank you, New York, for allowing me to step into my power. 2022 is going to be an amazing year, because I’m done hiding. I’m done being the meek little boy in the background (although, was I ever really meek?). I’m going to live life — because that’s why I came to NYC to begin with.
Until next time, y’all. Kisses.
