Courage
My IVF Journey
September 3, 2021
Welcome to the Life and Love with HIV blog!
September 8, 2021
I broke my virginity at the age of 21, and by the time I was 23, I had contracted HIV. Memories are still fresh of the day I lost my virginity. I went home shoulders high and all smiley, I felt I had finally become a woman. I don't know why but for some reason I had some pride in me. I went home late that day, and by late, I mean 7.00pm, I was a church girl. Darkness was just curving in slowly, later that evening I called my friend to inform her of my achievement, she was super excited, considering she used to call me 'saint'. She then advised me to dump the guy then and there since it was a bad omen to marry the man who breaks your virginity, and it was also good to kiss several frogs before settling for one, so I broke someone's heart.
I have always had this fear of opening up. I always wonder 'what will people say' especially those close to me. So, for that reason, my mother knew my fornicators just by names. She has never seen them physically but heard of their names through my annoying younger sister who would go through my phone secretly. It has been seven good years ever since I learnt about my status. The thought of me disclosing it to my family makes me think deep into the abyss, like when you stare on one spot for a while and all you can see is darkness and your mind becomes vague.
"For all those fears, I prefer silence."
I once changed my health center, where I used to refill my ARVs, just because the nurses there pushed me too hard to a point where they had planned on coming home with me so that I can disclose my status to my parents. When that day came, I was not available, I had 'travelled' to Nairobi, I felt invaded and the next day I went to clear up with them, they called later and apologized. I have fears, fear of being seen as inferior, sickly and weak, the fear of being excluded from picking coffee on a chilly day, the fear of not being the perfect daughter but a disappointment, the fear of being given special attention and diet just because I have a virus. For all those fears, I prefer silence.
The fear doesn't come from nowhere. I have heard some stigmatizing comments from my mother while talking of positive relatives and friends. Some of the comments are so painful that I shed tears and chose to suffer in silence. I also remember my science teacher back in primary school, how he described people living with HIV. Everyone was too thin, too sickly, and now that I am the person he described... The fear that was installed stigmatizes me up to know.
"Some run away, others ask me never to call them...but those who remain are royal friends, always calling to check on me and offer help when needed."
Family is always considered as a support system, the backbone, but I differ with that. I always find comfort with friends, especially male friends, maybe because most of them approach me with intentions of engaging sexually until I mention the word positive. Some run away, others ask me never to call them or cross their path, but those who remain are royal friends, always calling to check on me and offer help when needed. They are always grateful, saying I taught them a lifetime lesson and saved them.
We all have different ways of fighting stigma. I don't know whether my way is right, choosing to disclose my status to the chosen few friends and postponing months after months to my family, months that now have become years. Hiding a secret is hard. Each time I have to fake some illness to explain why I am taking medicine or why I have alarms throughout the year.
"We all have different ways of fighting stigma."
I am still gathering courage. I don't know how long it will take, but I know silence is not the best solution.
