First of all, I want to thank you for reading this, and for your interest in visiting the site. It’s an amazing example of how women can and do take action to be heard and seen. Writing this (my first blog post), I start with myself, and share what I think, feel, and experience about a subject very close to my heart and hope it resonates with you. If not, humour me for a thousand words?

Testing positive for HIV, for me, was kind of like when a dishcloth gets left in the sink and becomes lifeless and colourless, and even moldy if left too long. Eventually, even a good wash doesn’t help and it has to be replaced with a new one. That’s how I felt about my sex life when I tested positive. Everything changed, including how I thought about sex and how I identified as a sexual being. But, that’s another story, maybe for next month.

Let’s start with the basics of disclosure for now. In Canada, a woman living with HIV is legally obligated to disclose her status before sex IF she does not use a condom or is not virally suppressed. If both circumstances are met (i.e., she uses a condom and is virally supressed), there is no legal obligation to disclose.

So, I had a thought about following the letter of the law about disclosure and how that might play out in real life. Let’s imagine a date situation when sex suddenly and readily becomes imminent in the mix. Since disclosure is required prior to sexual activity—and since criminal cases are often “he said, she said,” or “he said he said, she said she said” or “whoever said against each other” situations—how funny would it be to have a disclosure document prepared and signed before said sexual encounter? A contract perhaps?

Just get them to sign a document declaring she disclosed prior to having sex! This should be fun.

Here is a hypothetical scenario, for a launch point.

Two adults meet in a grocery store lineup one day; they smile and exchange pleasantries about the sales or the weather, and there’s a spark! They think they might like to see each other again. As they walk out the doors of the supermarket together, courage comes through and they exchange phone numbers and email addresses. Big smiles, they walk away in opposite directions.

She is HIV positive. This is new dating territory for her, and the thought of a coffee date seems too intimate. Thankfully, this is Canada, and there is a lot to do outside, and the opportunity to just be outdoors and enjoying the view with someone is enough. Specifically, she wants to go on a quasi-date—one that doesn’t have to involve disclosure right away, like a hike or a bike ride (hard to talk too much then!). A couple of days pass and they make a date to go hiking on a beautiful summer day on the West Coast, where there are prime (and private) picnic spots. The kind of day and place that lends itself well to outdoor sex, on a rock on the side of a mountain…

The hike is spectacular. They talk about art and geography, music and culture, politics, religion, and food, and they laugh about all that they share in common. They have barely known each other for a week but magic is starting to happening. Knowing that she is not ready for sex, she keeps the picnic brief and comes up with a reason to get back down the mountain—after all, it’s only a first date. She’s been undetectable for years, so it’s really just about disclosing to them.

The next day they flirt in texts, and the desire to meet again is strong enough that they make plans for dinner. She spends all day worried about the looming disclosure. What to say? What if they freak out and make a scene at her favourite restaurant? What if they are disgusted or worse…? Worried enough, she decides to write it down because it is the correct “legal” thing to do. Just get them to sign a document declaring she disclosed prior to having sex! This should be fun.

“I (person’s name) do solemnly swear I disclosed my HIV status prior to having sex with (person’s name), whether said sexual activity happens today or in the future, and with (name of witness) having witnessed this agreement, signed (by all parties) and dated (day, month, year).”

The witness is tricky because you either want a complete stranger (in case it doesn’t work out or the magic is just a temporary hormone rush) or a good friend that you trust like a steel vault, available to sit through the awkward moments required to sign said document.

So, 7 pm. They meet at the diner and the conversation flows without effort. It seems like they really have a connection. She decides to be brave and ease into a disclosure conversation. But, nervous and fearful of their response, she whips out the disclosure document and says, “I have to do this because I am HIV-positive”. Her date thinks, “and exactly how big can a red flag get?”

She talks about U=U (that if we’re virally Undetectable, the virus is Untransmittable) and all the science we now have and know about life with HIV (we can have babies, live to be old and grey, etc.). And all of a sudden, the mood changes and they become focused on the document and the signatures required to move forward. Does this count as foreplay? She doubts it. Though you never know, right?

The law does not reflect the science and in no way is it supporting public health—in any country. It is only fuelling stigma and shame.

In Canada, a person who fails to meet the requirements for not disclosing their HIV status, can be charged with aggravated sexual assault, regardless of whether transmission occurred. Someone can get a life sentence, and be registered as a sex offender, for not disclosing a health condition. This has to change. The law does not reflect the science and in no way is it supporting public health—in any country. It is only fuelling stigma and shame. A signed document to get into bed is ridiculous and nearly impossible to imagine. But it happens. In fact, it is a strategy that some AIDS Service Organizations have presented to women.

So how does this story go, after the initial surprise of the document? They laugh about it over dinner, skip dessert and enjoy the best sex they ever had. Signed, sealed and delivered. U = U. Life is rainbows, unicorns, and happiness and joy. Our couple moves forward with their relationship.

Or, the alternate ending: everything gets really awkward, they get through dinner, they exchange obligatory polite texts, and never see each other again.

I am guessing the latter ending plays out way more often than it should in 2018.

This is because the law (in Canada) expects women to disclose their HIV status OR use a condom and be virally suppressed, regardless of the risks of stigma, violence, and rejection that they might face for doing so. U=U.

The message is clear, yet the messenger—the HIV positive person—is left the harbinger of news for no scientific reason, just a legal one. Telling a potential sex partner your status is a personal decision, and should not be a legal requirement. U still equals U.

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Join the conversation! Comment below. Tell us, would a contract take the romance out of dating? If you were to create one for your relationship, what would it detail? I do solemnly swear to… (Experiment in the bedroom?)

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The information contained in this blog does not constitute legal advice. Please consultant a legal expert in your country for guidance specific to your situation. For resources about the law:

• International Community of Women Living with HIV Positive Statement
• The HIV Justice Network’s Progress Report on advancing justice
• World Health Organization Report on the impacts of the law
• Special Issue in the journal Critical Public Health
• Consent and Positive Women: Exposing Injustice, documentary films on the law

Country-specific resources:

• Canada: Canadian HIV/AIDS Legal Network
• United States: The Centre for HIV Law and Policy, Sero Project
• United Kingdom: Sophia Forum, National AIDS Trust
• Kenya: KELIN
• To have your country's resource added to this list, email us at info [at] lifeandlovewithhiv [dot] ca