The last time on this blog, I wrote about my first ever attempt at online dating and the steps we took to begin to move this romance offline. Now, I’m writing about when it was finally time to meet in person.

Looking back, I was nervous and scared, wondering if he was what I was looking for and if I was what he was looking for in a relationship. I didn’t know if we were going to be compatible. There were so many variables that made it hard to determine how we would proceed with each other.

We decided to spend the weekend together with our kids. Bringing them with us created a type of security blanket; and a reason to escape if we needed to. I found us an AirBnB in a beautiful, remote place where he could bring his boat and we could go out on the water together.

We needed to drive a fair way, so we decided to meet on the side of the road before driving to our final destination.

Immediately, I was physically attracted to him. He was taller than me, handsome, dark hair, and had the brightest blue eyes. I also saw a family resemblance to some of my cousins and uncles. Luckily, we had established that we weren’t related by phone.

He walked up to me and gave me a traditional greeting in our [Maori] culture, a Hongi; where one person touches their nose to another’s nose. The cultural significance of that is enormous, as both of us are a mixed race of Irish and Māori descent. The importance hails from our creation story where the first man or deity crafted a woman from sand, pressed his nose to hers and breathed life into her. When we do it today, we are sharing the ‘breath of life'.

“For him to acknowledge our shared roots was terrific and very touching. This gesture did nothing to take my fears away or calm my nerves, but it was a good start.”

I almost welled up with tears. It was the best first thing he could have done as I was brought up amongst my culture and heritage and he wasn’t. For him to acknowledge our shared roots was terrific and very touching. This gesture did nothing to take my fears away or calm my nerves, but it was a good start.

We arrived at our destination, and the kids ran off down the beach to play in the water. We were left alone and for a split second my fear got the better of me. I felt like running away. Now that the kids were gone, we had no one to shield us from each other. No buffers and no interference. I was shaking with anticipation and fear that we wouldn’t be a match. We kept stealing glances at each other, had a couple of awkward moments, gaps in the conversation, or talking at the same time. I felt like we had gotten to know one another well on the phone; however, there was something about being physically in the same place that was so intoxicating. The fear slowly slipped away as I realised that he was afraid as well.

And then it happened! Without ‘kissing and telling’, I had the best sex I’ve ever had!!!

For some, sex can just be sex; anyone can have sex with a random person. However, that was not what I was looking for from a partner. I wanted my sexual experience to have meaning, a connection. I wanted to have sex with someone that I could fall in love with, an everlasting type of thing. I wanted to let go and feel sexual without judgement. I wanted to be intimate with someone and feel like a woman again.

“I have always believed that getting HIV changed my sexuality; it broke me as a human being, as a woman.”

For years I felt asexual, even when I was having sex with someone. I felt disconnected from my body. I have always believed that getting HIV changed my sexuality; it broke me as a human being, as a woman.

The reality of living with something that can be transmitted sexually makes you feel so many different things. Being sexual is not one of them. It felt more like a death sentence in the 90’s; it felt like you had to cut off all feelings ‘down below’ forever. The emotional and mental impact of living with HIV is not talked about as it has become more biomedical over the years. It’s something we live with, albeit quietly.

I remember in the early days I had to swear to my doctors that I would use condoms every time I had sex and that I would always tell my partners that I’m living with HIV. Reality had given me this very complicated situation, and, at the time, I felt it would be better to stop having sex altogether. It sure would make things a lot less complicated. A lot of my friends living with HIV have done that as well and just decided not to follow the path of finding love and having sex.

I denied my sexuality as a woman for so many years. I didn’t want to be present during sex. I lived in fear of passing on the virus to someone. Subconsciously I felt dirty and unclean, and even with precautions, it was as though I was still some kind of leper. Contagious. A vector of disease. So I learnt how to switch my emotions off. If someone wanted sex with me, I would let them know my status and wait for the reaction. Even if they did want to continue, I was impacted by the thought of responsibility and I couldn’t enjoy the experience. Sex was not enjoyable in the early years of diagnosis for me.

“I felt myself falling in love physically, mentally and emotionally. My sexuality was finally free.”

I also felt that if I fell in love with someone before having sex, regardless of gender, if it felt so strong and so right, I would finally be able to be present during sex. I had met someone this time that I felt connected to and seriously attracted to. This experience is what led me to ‘My Happy Place’. I was very ‘present’ this time, and I ended up with different levels of pleasure that I had denied myself for so long. I felt I knew him well enough through our phone calls, and I let my guard down. I was ready to have that connection and was so prepared to have this connection with this ‘Hot’ man! I felt myself falling in love physically, mentally and emotionally. My sexuality was finally free.

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Join the conversation. Share your thoughts below in the comments section. How has your sexuality and sexual feelings changed over time?