Taboo topics have always been my favorite conversation-starters. Whenever the topic of HIV/AIDS came up, I was the smartest man alive. "Only crackheads, hookers and people who shoot up get HIV," and "You can tell who got that shit because they look sick," were two sentences I remember proudly stating. That wasn't the same energy I had when I was diagnosed with HIV on Dec. 19, 2012.
I was the average 21-year-old white gay man. Living it up, partying every weekend, experimenting with drugs, and of course having plenty of sex. Man, I knew the pathway to my walk of shame backwards and with my eyes closed, strutting every step of the way while my hips said, "Yes ma'am," with every sway.
I became an advocate for HIV awareness after living with the virus for two years. Stigma led me to my reactive test, and stigma caused me to bury a friend...
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