As told to Nicole Audrey Spector
When I worked for the Coast Guard, we had regular health checks. Testing for sexually transmitted infections (STIs), including HIV, was routinely performed. My results were always negative. No surprise.
I didn’t think I had anything to worry about because I had no known risk factors. I was not a drug user and only had long-term, trusting monogamous relationships. I was also very involved in my community – distributing condoms and advocating for safe sex among people at higher risk. I’ve kept myself fairly educated.
Later, when I was in my fifties, I felt a sharp, throbbing pain in my mouth. An infection, I thought. I went to my GP who ran a series of tests.
Shortly afterwards I received a call back.
“I have good news and bad news,” said the doctor. “The bad news is that you have HIV. The good news is that we caught it in time. It’s not AIDS. With the right medication you can live a normal life.”
That was a lot to digest. How could that be?! I did not engage in any risky behaviors.
In the days that followed, I questioned God. “Why me?” Not only was I sad, I was very sick, I lost 20 pounds. of what was a healthy weight for me. And I just couldn’t understand how I had contracted this sexually transmitted disease.
“Can you write down the names of the last people you were sexually active with?” asked the doctor.
The list consisted of one name, an ex who I was in a long-term relationship with. I thought, “He cheated on me. He put my life in danger. And I had no idea!” I put everything together. He regularly had medication delivered to his home and I would hand the mail to him, confident that it was his business and that what he was treating was not contagious. He said it was a skin infection. But my doctors explained that it must be an HIV drug because the tests had found traces of this drug in my body.
Conclusion: He knew he had HIV and had unprotected sex with me for years anyway. I confronted him after my diagnosis and he kept telling me that he had no idea he was HIV positive. He later died of AIDS.
I am the oldest of ten children and come from a long line of strong Black people. My mother, who died of lung cancer (she had never smoked a day in her life) before she was 50, taught me to always keep my head up and never give in to shame or embarrassment. Despite going through an emotional rollercoaster, I never felt silenced and immediately told my loved ones about my diagnosis.
1990, Marie 40 years old
Overall, my friends and family were compassionate and willing to help. Some found it tragically ironic that I would become HIV positive since I was known for always preaching about safe sex.
Although most of the people close to me were supportive, there were some who were judgmental, talkative and cruel. They chattered behind my back: “Oh, don’t eat or drink near them,” they whispered scornfully. “She has this thing.”
They still thought HIV was a deadly virus that could mysteriously be spread through shared dishes. To them, HIV was three scarlet letters that essentially meant “dirty bitch.” I knew they were ignorant and didn’t deserve my time, but it still hurt to talk about them like that.
My true friends gathered around me and brought me food to bring back my lost appetite. They helped me transition into a new phase of life, a life with a manageable but incurable illness that is still heavily stigmatized in our society.
At first I took a lot of medication and had to live with a lot of side effects. Thanks to my support system and my faith (not only in God, but also in my amazing medical team), the depression that had obscured me when I was first diagnosed disappeared. I was as grateful as ever to be here and to know that I have angels on my shoulders watching over me and guiding me.
Some twenty years later, I am 76 and happier than ever. I take very little medication to stay healthy. My days are peaceful and joyful. I dance at my house to music that makes me feel relaxed and happy. I watch Gunsmoke to relax. I read and enjoy the solitude. Life is good. Oh – and much to my surprise, I’m in love again! With a great man, Lorenzo, who pursued me for three months before I gave him a chance.
“I have HIV,” I told him immediately. “I take medication. I don’t have sex without a condom and I’m not thirsty.”
“No problem,” said Lorenzo. “I want a good woman. I want you.”
Marie’s granddaughter Jada and her daughter Robyn, 2025
Maybe my daughter is the only person more surprised than me to have found love again. She was shocked when she found out about Lorenzo. She is very supportive and open about my HIV infection, but she is also caring and worried about me coming into contact with men. I think she’s let go of her fears a little bit and become more tolerant, but it’s been a hard road for her to get here. And I understand: Children of parents with HIV also have to deal with all of this. They are also vulnerable to stigmatization.
We all have down days, regardless of whether we’re living with a terminal illness, and I don’t always wake up in a happy, inspired mood – but I know how to fix that quickly. I get up, go to the bathroom like I own the world, put on my beautiful makeup and smile at myself in the mirror.
“You are a sexy and beautiful woman,” I say. “I am who I am and I am a survivor.”
I learned that if you want to block out negativity, you have to pump yourself up. If you don’t take the time to be your own cheerleader every day, you run the risk of falling into depression and possibly not being able to take care of yourself.
So if you’re like me, living with HIV or a similar illness, or even in perfect health, I want you to know that you stand for something. You are on a journey. Your body can be injured or infected, but your mind cannot. Take care of her, be kind to her and never let her down.
resources
Therapy strain – HIV/AIDS strain
HIV test locator
My HIV team
The Well Project
Do you have any real women, real stories of your own that you would like to share? Let us know.
Our “Real Women, Real Stories” are the authentic experiences of real-life women. The views, opinions and experiences shared in these stories are not endorsed by HealthyWomen and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of HealthyWomen.
From your website articles
Related articles on the Internet
