Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Two Sides to Every Story

I recently reconnected with a female friend of mine. During high school she was someone I was close with, laughed with, ditched class with and created a strong bond with. We even went to the high school prom together. Back then although I thought I was gay I never claimed that title. So even for my female friend, she didn't know. We saw so much of each other I suppose you could call it dating without the sex.
In my senior year Prom was coming and I was so scared when I asked her to go to the prom. Not that she would say no but because back then I felt that there was an expectation that when you went to the prom that afterward you were supposed to have sex. I don't know where I got this belief from but it laid in my conscious. So asking her was a step I pushed myself toward because you can't be a senior in school and not go to the prom. Isn't that a rule of society? So she accepted and that's when my heart started to beat, not from love but from fear.
What was I getting myself into?
After renting a tux which gave me that James Bond look, and springing a few dollars for a corset for my female friend, it was time to dance to the beat.
On the actual day I was surprised to know that her mother had rented a limo for the night. Now I really felt the pressure that sex was expected. It was like a comedy routine Richard Pryor said when he talked about going on a date. "There's a side of the ordering menu where we can hold hands afterward and there's a expensive side of the menu that if you order from means I'm getting some. That limo meant that she was showing me the second menu.
Gulp!
The prom itself was fun. The hall was filled with the 80's r&b jams and back then we did dances that you wouldn't be embarrassed to do in front of your mother. For me I was still stuck on what happened afterward and what was she expecting. The time finally arrived when the prom was over and the music died and you were told you don't have to go home but you got to get the hell out of here.
What was I supposed to do? I had never kissed a girl. I didn't know what to expect.We decided to go to dinner afterward and my defense was to make jokes. I became Richard Pryor, Eddie Murphy and Steve Martin all rolled into one. I can tell I was getting on her nerves, but for me that was the point, to make myself such an ass she didn't want to do nothing but get away from me. And it worked. We ended the night with her being dropped off first and me last, my virginity intact and no girl tongue action.
Skip ahead to this week where we sat and talked and laughed about prom. I admitted to her how scared I was and claimed ownership of my actions. She surprised me with her response. She told me that for the following few years that night made her feel ugly as she didn't understand why I acted as if I wasn't interested in her. She admitted that the night made her self-esteem hang out on the low side.
At that moment I realized that there were two sides to every story. I learned a lesson that when searching for identity it's not just you but the people around you, the ones who are truly in your lives and by keeping them in the dark you leave them with different interpretations of what's going on. I have to admit there are some similar traits of the whole downlow aspect-not being honest with your partner about your sexuality. But I was different as I felt that there was no intention of me being deceitful, that I just didn't know who I was and how to tell the other person for fear of telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Hearing her version of the prom date I felt bad especially not knowing I hurt her. She's a great person and it was never my intention. But it was good that many years later we can reflect on the night and still maintain a friendship.
Whether it's our parents, or our friends or people we associate with we want them sometimes to guess what's going on. But they don't have a magic ball. They can only go with what you show them.
But that's result of societies perspective on admitting you're gay. You just don't know how they will react act and it's risky.
Not using it as an excuse but as an explanation of why people don't disclose but like I said you have to remember that search in identity it's not just you.There's always someone else involved whether they know it or not
There's two sides to every story.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Being Thankful

With this years Thanksgiving i have to take this opportunity to give thanks to so much in the world. I first have to give thanks to God because I never knew that after being diagnosed 24 years ago that I would be here to tell my story and to enjoy this thing we call life. You had a plan for me and although I sometimes can be a control freak by placing you first I can finally see the fruit you planted so many years ago.
The second set of thank you goes out to those who have embraced me not only for me telling my story but also not jumping off the train when the journey was rough. You not only stayed with me but also gave the best kind of love in the world, the unconditional love that everyone should bask in.
I thank my medical providers, people who are often forgotten. I know that when I come into the office I can sometimes be hell as I advocate what pills I will take and those I won't. Questioning your advice but then being receptive to it as my hardheadedness see the reasoning. But the greatest thanks is knowing when I come in being treated as Aundaray and not as another patient.
I give thanks to my family. My dysfunctional, not always perfect, sometimes drive me bonkers family. But show me a perfect family. There's no such thing. I'm stuck with you and you're stuck with me but although we follow different paths and thoughts we have a glue of love that keeps us together.
I want to thank all the negative people who I have encountered. By passing your path I see what I don't want to be and have learned how to be the opposite of hate.Although the lesson was sometimes painful and left me in tears sometimes, I came from it stronger and more loving.
Finally I have to give thanks to myself, as narcissistic it may sound. But I thank myself for not giving up. For getting myself off the ground when it felt like I would never be able to get back up. I thank myself for facing my fears and not letting them drive my life any longer. You were in control of the steering wheel for awhile but now you're in the trunk. And I mostly thank myself to open my heart to love. If anyone had a reason to be bitter and hateful, I qualified, but my heart only allowed in the good and embraced it.
I have so much to be thankful and if you're reading this this includes you!
Have a great holiday!!

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Tis the Season to Not Always be Jolly

I remember Thanksgiving as a kid. The smells of the macaroni and cheese baking in the oven, the turkey and the glazed ham with pineapple rings attached to it by toothpicks, both waiting it's turn to be placed in the oven. The mixing of the sweet potatoes for the pie and the chocolate frosting that will soon make its home on the homemade cake. And it has to be said everything was made from scratch, no box crap in our house. Of course this is all witnessed at the edge of the kitchen door as mama's rule was, "Get out of my kitchen". The only time we was allowed in was to wash the dishes after dinner was finished.
 When it was time to eat and relatives have arrived, the table would be filled with empty plates and filled dishes of food that was soon to be devoured. It was laughter and memories of days past shared. It was a time for family.
Soon the laughter fades, along with the food and the smells of the food as you're left with memories of what used to have been. You no longer have access to such experiences. You've been outcast, no longer allowed for many different reasons, because they now know you're gay, they feel you don't follow the family values or the knowing you have HIV and your refusal to be served with plastic forks and spoons and paper plates while everyone else get real dinnerware.
The holidays may mean good feelings for people but in reality there are just as many who have lost that space at the table and holidays reminds one of what you don't have.
Family can be a curse and a bane. They can treat you in a way that you would never let a stranger, yet becausse they're family they get a free liscene.
After I was turned away from the table it was sad and lonely. I remember spending one Thanksgiving eating Cheeseburger flavored Hamburger Helper while watching the television show, Survivor" just waiting for the day to be over so I didn't have to be reminded of what I no longer had. I was denied a place at the table for me being what I was born to be. And although I would tell myself I wasn't going to have the usual dessert, there would be some trigger and the dessert of tears would be served.
I soon learned that family doesn't mean the people you were raised with. That family can be a potpourri of people who you have developed relationships with and who accept you for who you are. I was fortunate enough to find an adopted family, but although my mind would sometimes drift back to what holidays used to be, I had to learned to appreciate what I did have.  
Despite the commercialization of the holidays, I just feel no one should experience it alone. If knowing someone no longer has a connection to their real family an effort should be made to invite those to your gathering as it gives them a sense of connection. I think in the end we all want to feel connected to something.
That lost of connection is so valuable that without it, people resort to aids to help them through it, whether it's alcohol, drugs, risky sex with a stranger, suicide, whatever as long as they don't have to be reminded of what they don't have.
Embrace those who don't have no connection with family. Fight against their pride and let them know that we want you to be part of our family. I was saved by people who did the same to me. Although I told them I was okay and refuse their invitation they knew it was a ruse and pushed that ruse away and dragged me to the table. I was at a table with people I wasn't raised with but they became my family. I'm so glad they accepted me at the table because I found my connection.
Tis the season to think of those who don't have and to do whatever you can to make them feel that yes you do have family. And for those affected, accept the invites and don't allow yourself to wallow in your dish of pity.
Enjoy the upcoming holidays the best you can and be blessed!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

A Letter to a Father I Never Met

Dear Dad or Father or the person who donated his sperm,
I'm writing to say that I wished I had a chance to meet you as I've always wondered about the other half of me. I'm sorry i missed out on the memories we would have had I'm being positive when I say that they would have been good ones. As a child when I saw men shoes I wondered how you would look walking in them. Maybe me with you walking hand in hand.
I want you to know that I turned out okay despite your absence. Ma had to take up the space you left behind and it wasn't always perfect but she did the best that she could with what she had. I've done a lot of good myself since I've been on my own. I think you would have been proud of me.
I wished i knew your name. I've asked ma but she gives me a different name each time I ask. maybe something happened between you both. But it's not my place to ask.
I do look in the mirror and wonder if we look the same. As you can tell I have a shaved head as my hair started to recede when I was young. Did the same thing happened to you? But people say it looks good on me so I guess it's cool.
I hope you know I'm not mad at you or at least I'm not mad at you anymore. I was when I was young. I would hear jokes about black fathers having babies and leaving and I knew it was true because it happened to me. I guess raising a child is scary or there were other reasons you left. The saddest I felt is whether you knew it or not my other siblings had a different father. Fathers that they could call or go visit. I was the only one who couldn't do that. I remember as a child they gathered around me and started to tell me how i didn't have a father. It hurt but I didn't let them see. I cried when they went away. So I guess that was one of the times i was mad you wasn't there.
But I'll have you to now that I've grown stronger since then and the tears have stopped falling. Why do black men leave? It's a question I've asked myself as I'm not the only one who has grown up without a father.
Whatever your reason just know that if i have a child I'll always be there and I'll always show him love. I didn't say that to make you feel guilty but to let you know I learned something from your absence.
Sorry for the typo's but i just wanted to write something from my heart and like life realize not everything is perfect. But thank you for bringing me into this world and the gift of life you gave me I'm going to give it to others whether through my words actions or my essence.
So think of me and when you do feel proud on who you made.
Well ending my letter but not my love
Your son
Aundaray

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Let's All Sit in a Circle

Once you know about your HIV status and come to accept it, there's comes the part of looking for support outside of friends and family. In my early days I was directed to several groups. Groups I learned are interesting because you have people who have the same disease but come from different backgrounds. And depending on your personality groups can either work for you or work against you.
The first group I went to which was recommended by my primary clinic was a once a week group of adults living with HIV. I had just turned twenty. I don't want to knock the group but I'll put it this way I was the only raisin in the rice bowl. For those who don't get that comment, I was the lone black young adult filled with white men in their thirties on up. Right away I knew that the only thing we had in common was the disease. They talked about what are they going to do with their 401's, (which I thought they meant jeans) the property they owned and who was going to take over their cabin homes. As a black man I'm wondering how the hell am I going to pay for the meds I'm on, the racism that I go through despite having HIV (you mean I have to deal with racism and HIV!!) and the emotional struggle of not being completely out. The group didn't work for me and if you talk to other African-Americans who are in support groups, whether it's rehab or whatever, they have the same difficulties in groups that don't address the issue of racism. Racism may not be the cause but it's an additional barrier black men face when dealing with their issue. Some diverse groups don't understand that if it's never talked about or allowed in the dialogue you feel as if no one understands what you're going through as racism alone leads or contribute to continued risky behavior and/or isolation.
To test my theory I remember talking about how stressful it was to me to be living with HIV and having the cops pull me over while black. They looked at me like I lost my mind. What the hell did getting stopped by the cops have with to do with what they were talking about. Inside I wanted to scream that the underlying stress of the constant stops worsens my condition by creating stress and if you know anything about stress and HIV, they don't get along very well.as your immune system is usually the victim of the battle.
They just didn't get it, so I left.
It took me awhile before I got the nerve to join another group and this time I chose an African-American one. For the most part it was good as there was a relation in the dialogue, but I say this not to steer anyone from a support group but you have to know that people go to the groups for different reasons. The underlining aspect is the support, but some also see it as a social event where they can be around people and not necessarily talk about their HIV, some because of their financial situation see a free meal and some use it as a dating opportunity to meet others. And even that can be a turn off as here you are checking in with what you're going through and someone who planted themselves directly across from you on purpose has a hard-on. But now older and wiser and looking at it differently, for that person it was probably the only time and chance he could be in a safe company of men where he could possibly find a date or partner,  knowing that when the group is over he goes back to his downlow life.
So in the end you can't demonize him.
But groups are what you make it and they do have benefits because you don't want isolation to be your friend. And it's healthy to have a frank space where you can talk about your life without judgment or censorship.
And I have meet some cool people through the group. But it all depends on you and what you're looking for. For me I sat in on a group for five years and it hit me that I no longer had the need for it as my outside support system was in place.
But the connection is the most important piece. Everyone needs a connect to someone on the physical world. Having a connection with God is good but you need that one person to make it seem that you're not going it alone.
If you're looking for a group but can't connect with the people because of age differences, race, gender, whatever, keep looking, especially if you don't have outside support because there are a circle of people out there waiting to welcome you into the fold as you are. Don't give up!
Stay Positive!!

Sunday, November 7, 2010

What happens to a Dream Deferred

I recently came upon a mid-life crisis. Like a thief in the night, something or somebody came along and stole my spirit and I found myself turning my back on what made me. To understand what I'm talking about I have to bring you back as well as myself back to a time when I lived my dream..
Before coming to New York City I was heavily into the arts. Not just as a audience member but also as a writer, performer and actor whether it was on film or stage. It was a passion that I held and it not only brought me happiness but also I would like to think others as well. I was recognized and appreciated the accolades people gave me for what I was doing. I can be honest in that sometimes when you find the type of success where people know you and start inviting you out to parties and such, you can get a big head. As a performer I say this to not only myself but also other performers, underneath what we do we all have a sense of egos that like to be fed. I was one myself. There's many extremes of ego seeking. Mine was on the mild side but I'm sure some reading this will disagree.
Did I come to New York to be a big star?
Actually the answer is no. I left Minnesota because I felt myself becoming complacent. My life wasn't challenging me anymore. I had a good job, good relationship with the arts, which included running Flayva Cabaret and happy in the relationships I had. But I realize that at a young age I was starting to settle. It was like my life was on cruise control. I compare it to driving the streets of Minneapolis. I rode them so much that I had all the traffic lights memorized. Everything was expected. In a way I felt myself dying because I knew there was a bigger world out there and I wanted to experience it in person and not through watching endless movies. Don't get me wrong I liked Minneapolis but there's only many times you can walk around a lake.
The move to New York was exciting, scary, intriguing and puzzling but it woke me up. I was in a new river and I had to learn to swim in a different stream. I came here with my partner with ideas but no clear plan because I feel that to make a big move you have to jump into the water and trying to create a carefully drafted plan will postpone and even cancel your ideas of moving. I just believed in the faith that no matter what we all have a survival instinct and you'd be amazed how it will pop up and keep you afloat.
So in NY things were great and I enjoyed the environment but at the same time I was humbled because I was a nobody when it came to the arts. All the works I did before didn't mean nothing to those in NY. And when they say NY is a fast city,believe it. It took me awhile but I eventually found my own rhythm and most importantly a community. What I lost was the faith that I could be as successful in the arts as I was in Minnesota. 
I gave up on my dreams, afraid of what was on the other side.
What happens to a dream deferred?
You start to slowly die. You start to lose purpose. You start to lose identity and then the reflection of yourself in the mirror no longer resembles you.
When you give up on your dreams and try to find it in others or find yourself giving life to someone else dreams your feet become wet with the pools of bitterness.
I reached a place where I told myself, okay Aundaray you didn't move here to become complacent. I had to find the yellow brick road.
Long story short I put myself first, became selfish and started to work on my dreams. I pushed myself to get back out there and to take chances, even if the risks involved an answer of no.
By doing that I found my way back. I started to get roles in plays, movies, doing a national print ad and now filming a show for a tv series. I stepped out of my bubble and started to connect with new people who shared my dream and now find myself about to put on a one-man show in a few months and the rebirth of my cabaret.
The point of this is to say is that we all have a dream. We all have something we want to do but we let fear overcome us and we end up becoming our own worst enemy as we put up barriers and start creating excuses instead of a plan. And we let others tell us that we can't do it and believe them.
I'm not saying you have to move to New York but if you want a fulfilled life we have to feed our dreams. If we let them die, we die.
Whether it's starting your own business, writing a book, traveling to a far away country or even moving to another part of the country, believe in yourself. Know that we are not only born once, we go through many rebirths and know that whatever you attempt, even if it doesn't work out, you can say "At least I tried" instead of, "I wish I did". Make your dreams a reality.
Leap, Find, Enjoy, Be Reborn!

Monday, November 1, 2010

My Soul Says Yes

I know that the reason I have been so fortunate to be a long term survivor of HIV is the beliefs I carry, beliefs of positive thinking. With all the crap I've been through, whether it was from a person, situation or event, it was all for a good reason. Even the bad relationships I have had, they have happened so when a good relationship comes along I not only know what a good relationship looks like but also learn to appreciate it.
Rather than compare my trials and tribulations to others to see who has had it worse, as we all have had different experiences, I do know that for me positive thinking is something you can't think about but it takes work to get in that frame of mind. It's first realizing that when we're born we all were born with wings to fly but situations come along and each thing you go through, a feather is dropped from your wings until you no longer feel you can fly. You're grounded.
I was like that for a long time when I was young. After the physical and verbal abuse I went through in my young years I always felt my feet was cemented to a ground of despair.
But inside where no one could blow out that small ember of hope I carried, a small flame that told me not not give up or give in,  I just knew that I was more than what I thought I was worth. The greatest person who got me through my trials was God. Although I never went to any church and feel that although churches are beautiful buildings, your relationship with God can be anywhere you want it to be. He gave me the strength to keep on fighting and to treat my failures not as negatives but acknowledgment that I at least attempted.
I give myself daily affirmations. This is important to me because in this crazy, sometimes cold world, you have to have a daily affirmation of encouragement to get you through. One of the best books I can recommend is written by Iyanla VanZant called, "Acts of Faith". It's a book that gives you daily affirmations of positive thinking and letting go of oppression and depression as well as the luggage we tend to pile up and carry with us.
And luggage is something we all have.Gay or straight.
Some have a knapsack and some have so much luggage that they have to rent out extra storage space. When you have that much luggage and you're trying to make a new relationship and it doesn't work, try looking at the luggage you brought in with you and also realize that the person you may be trying to meet also has their own luggage and simply have no room for anymore. In other words if it doesn't work out it's not always about you.
We have to learn to let our luggage go. To live a positive life you have to start unpacking and throwing away stuff. Throw away the hurtful things that were said to you.Sometimes we're so angry at what someone said to us years ago and you're still waiting for that apology. Let it go.Throw away the people who you called a friend and now treat you like a stranger. Throw away the anger because someone isn't the way you want them to be or act the way you want them to act. Unclutter your heart so you don't miss the good people who are out there waiting to get to know you. We have to tell ourselves that no longer will I live in the basement but live in the penthouse where I belong.
But again I stress this a daily practice and not something you can do for a minute and when things are good you stop. Even if you have a relationship with God, you don't just speak to him when things are bad but also he wants to hear from you when things are good.
I have been hurt and I can guarantee you before I leave this earth I will be hurt again and again and again. But I won't let that hurt stop me from flying. You have to put things in perspective. I have been positive for twenty something years but I know that somewhere out there someone has it worse than me. And I accept the fact that everything happens for a reason, nothing in your life is unscripted.
You hate your job, someone else can't find a job.
You hate the snow, someone else wish they can see what snow looks like
You hate taking your HIV meds, someone else wish they had and not be stuck in a hospital bed or casket.
My soul says yes and I know that I'm nowhere close to a wonderful fulfilled life as there are other adventures out there waiting for me and I'm not the only one. But you'll miss them if you're not taking the risk to open your heart to receive them.
So stay positive and fly!!