Friday, April 29, 2011

Keep it on the Downlow

As a black man it was hard for me to write about the 'downlow' term. What you're reading is the final draft of which several were produced but I felt they didn't help with what I was trying to say. I first want to say that cheating in a committed relationship is morally irresponsible and selfish, no matter what race you are, yet I have issues with the demonetization of black men when it comes to the term 'downlow'
When people think of 'downlow' I bet you the first visually image of the word is one of an African-American male. He's probably more urban looking and he more than likely has AIDS/HIV. Yet for me it's an inaccurate portrayal and another way to stigmatize black men.
The term came to light based on a story in the New York Times and followed by a show on a episode of the Oprah Winfrey show. Behaviors that were already present were now made aware to the masses. In both cases the focus was on African-American men.
Yet wasn't it several years ago a married New Jersey governor was caught in an affair with another man. And in the fiction world, didn't we have a movie with two cowboys go camping in the woods and had a night of passion even though they were both married. What's similar in each scenario is that each were white and never during the discussion of either the true life affair or in the describing of the movie, "Brokeback Mountain, do we see the introduction of the word 'downlow', when basically that's what they were doing. In fact on Wikipedia in its description of Brokeback Mountain its described as a "romantic drama film that depicts the complex romantic and sexual relationship between two men". Now I have to wonder if the actors were black would it still be seen as a romantic film or one of two deceptive men cheating on their wives?
I was asked to write about the subject of downlow and the request itself made itself clear that as a black man I should comment on it as no other race are affected by it. Why me? For me this is a conversation that goes beyond one race and one gender. Especially when you're looking at the rate of HIV infection which again people want to blame on the DL or "downlow".
I will admit African-American women are being infected and I know this may sound cruel but it takes two to get HIV/AIDS. According to the CDC report when looking at infection rates among black women 46% did not use a condom in the past two months. 60% did not know male partner's status and 70% perceived little or no risk of HIV.
What else doesn't the media tell you?
How about the fact that there's a high rate of incarceration that take men out of the mating pool and create a system of women sharing the same man; intravenous drug use that accounts for 20 percent of all HIV infections among black women; other untreated sexually transmitted infections (STIs) such as herpes and gonorrhea, which make people more vulnerable to contracting HIV once exposed to the virus; and people having unprotected sex, unaware that they are positive, who are going untreated while highly infectiousration
This is not to say black women are at fault, but there's several things missing. The main thing is knowing your partner and your partner knowing themselves and their status. Sometimes we get stuck in the stereotypes that if a man acts or behavior macho then there's no way he's having sex with men.and not to be a hypocrite but this conversation is one that should not only be held with black, but all races.
And not to knock down any relationships but whether you're married, dating or made a promise to be in a monogamous relationship, you still should have discussions about your sexual relations. Just because a ring is on a finger doesn't mean there's total commitment, just look at the sex ads on Craig'sList of married men looking for afternoon fun.
Know who you're sleeping with and unless you've been attached to their hip for 24 hours you don't know-so assume that whoever you're having sex with is infected and use protection.
The link between men on the downlow and the HIV/AIDS virus creates a state of fear and betrayal and chaos in the conscious of black women.
Categorizing a race with a negative term fosters stigma that makes it more likely that someone will not be true about their status, if they know it at all as black people in general based on social barriers such as lack to proper medical coverage, fear of knowing your status and the ostracize reaction they will receive from loved ones and their community.
Yes there are black people on the downlow but also all the other races and ethnicities are as well. If we're in a relationship we have to turn off the television and stop accepting the BS they're feeding us about black men and downlow and start having real talk to each other on our sexual status and behaviors. We have to stop blaming and pointing fingers and know what we need to do to protect ourselves.
Just like AIDS has no color, so does the word' downlow'    

Monday, April 18, 2011

Got some xplainig to do!

I have to give myself props. I've been writing this blog going on eight months, with Poz.com recently picking me. My goal in writing my blog was to let people know that they're not alone in their individual fight with HIV. I also wanted to let people know the true effect of being positive and hopefully reach someone who's negative think about their sexual practice and realize the virus isn't as pretty as the magazine articles make it. Lastly I wanted to be raw and real and tell my story and although some may relate with what I have to share I recognize we all walk down different roads in our battle.
I have received many praise and encouragement and each one affirms that I'm doing the right thing and each one keeps me going. I thank those who have related or even shared their own experiences. There's something about releasing.
I also thank those who don't agree with me sometimes. It lets me know that I'm not perfect and I have flaws. But in the end I just know we're all in this together no matter what window we're looking from.
 Most of my stories of reflection comes from my youthful days. I myself even re-read what I wrote and say to myself, "Man Aundaray you sure were shallow" But I also recognize my stories come from my younger days and when I was young I was in a totally different place than I am today. Yes I was shallow. When I was young I thought everyone wanted me and that I was the sh*t, regardless of my status. I did things today that I'm not proud of and ashamed to same out loud. Yet I don't hate the choices I made as I was in the stage of forming my identity. Especially being diagnosed with HIV before my twenties I had that to deal with that along with my anger, my sexuality, my relationships and still look at myself in the mirror.
There is a current campaign that states, "It Get's Better". I agree but it's also misleading in a way because it doesn't get better overnight. It took me twenty more years to get to a place where I could feel better about myself, yet with all my negative experiences I realize that we have to go through something to get somewhere.
So I embrace my hurts because its what made me what and who I am today. I have always stated it and I know I sound like a broken record but you can't live your life in shame and you have to keep telling yourself, I did nothing wrong".
When looking at my past I realize that I was shallow, real, loving, angry, spiteful, mischievous, determined, quiet, loud, judgmental, opinionated, giving, caring, introvert, extrovert, damaging and hopeful. And through it all I never gave up but there has been days when I wanted to.
There's a freedom from expressing yourself. With everything I've went through I was a perfect candidate to have developed a substance abuse lifestyle. That's why those who are fighting such demons I don't judge them because unless you understand the pain and demons they're fighting or have fought, you can't understand.
It's the same when you're living with HIV. You see the outside, the parts I want you to see. But if you looked inside you'd see the real me. The fear. the questions I have of death. The fear of rejection and people knowing what I had living inside of me.
So when I write in my blog, like an onion I strip myself of that fear. it's not completely gone but each layer I peel away I start to see the real me.
What's next?
Actually I'm hoping that by the end of the year I can start a book. But most of all I want to keep inspiring my brothers and sisters, no matter your race, to keep on fighting and keep the fight up to find the real you. To get past the anger and to let go of the blaming of how you got infected. it's done so let's let go and work on the living part. That part still needs to be nurtured.
Yes I know i sound like Oprah, but to get to true nature of who we are and to accept who we are we have to get naked with ourselves. That involves our truths, the way we see others and ourselves. And we also physically have to accept our nakedness. We have to strip ourselves of the shit that society has placed on us and accept ourselves for who we are. I may not have a six pack and have a little extra around my waist. I may not have the biceps that could lift mountains or the shape of the model I see on the cover of magazines, but I accept what I do have. I accept my naked self and soul.
So thank everyone who's sharing this journey with me and know that I don't walk it alone but with the love of God and the love of everyone who's path I've passed, I'm made stronger. And if I offend anyone along the way, just know that I'm still learning!
Thanks for being part of my life and accepting me, typos and all :)  
  

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Letting Go of Family


Some years back I had to make a difficult decision. It was a choice to continue to endure the neglect of family especially around my sexual identity and health status or continue to accept the bread crumbs of love they chose to give me.
If you ask me I think there's no such thing as a perfect family. Some families present themselves as crystal vase with no cracks, but if you look closely enough you'll see the defects. My family, we not only were not made of crystal but we had cracks that would swallow a SUV. But still I still loved them because when it comes to family that's what you're supposed to do.
When I came out to my family I had the impression that everything was okay. It wasn't until I was in my early twenties and the only reason I did was because I had a sense they already knew. In fact my mother was the one who outed me as she asked me was there anything I wanted to tell her. I chose that moment to walk through the door and told her, 'yes I was gay'. She responded, "Well as long as you don't try to steal my boyfriends" and my response, "I've seen your boyfriends so you don't have anything to worry about". 
It was a joking moment but then a strange thing happened in my family. Just like the military my coming out turned into a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. So although they knew I was gay they just didn't want to hear the details of my life when it came to that. Yet I played by their rules because again... they're family.
Family is interesting because you let them do or say things to you that you wouldn't accept from anyone else. You let them treat you less than your worth and although you fight back, just like a puppy you make your way back.
I eventually started to have a one-way relationship with my family. It seemed like I had to call them to find out how they were doing. At this time I had HIV and I used to say to myself, "I can fall out in my apartment and wouldn't be discovered because my family doesn’t take the time to reach out".
The time came when I said enough. I wasn't going to be treated that way. So I wrote each a individual hand letter and in it told them I was who I was and if they can't accept me then that's unfortunate for them as I'm always here for them and accept them as they are. I ended the letter by stating that if you want a relationship with me and all that I am, which included my sexuality and health status, then call me and let me know and we'll go from there. If you don't respond then I'll take that as an answer also.
Letters sent.
Two years went by and there was no response. I guess I got my answer. And my pride wouldn't allow me to continue to reach out. I wanted someone to reach out to me.
The worse thing was that through other relatives I would hear how they talked to each other, spend time together, continue being a family..less one.
I wish I could say I was hard and didn't care but there were tears. Holidays were the hardest, as I sat at a table of people who 'adopted' me. I truly appreciated their love, but seeing how they interacted like a family it was reminder of what I didn't have.
Soon the family must have remembered they had another son as I started to get calls. And I accepted them because I had never erased them out of my life. I just refused to not be me. And with the reconnection I made it clear that if a relationship is to happen, these are my terms. If you can't accept me as a gay man with HIV then there would be no relationship. My life couldn't be silent,
Letting go of family was the hardest period of my life but I feel that you have to set your limits, especially with family. Society already devalues you, family should uplift you. But during that absence I learned that family doesn't mean it has to be someone of blood relationship, that we can create family from people who are open to embrace us. And if you're in a situation where your family doesn’t accept you, as they say, if you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.
I now can honestly say I have family.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Hurt People, Hurt People


It's a shame on how much hate we have in this earth. Racism, Homophobia, Stigmatization, Xenophobia. What's even sadder is that we don't come out of the womb hating, it's a behavior that we learn from others.
Focusing on homophobia I have to say that I have had my share of it. Yet the one thing I'm ashamed of while growing up is that I use to be part of that homophobia mixture, which to some may seem silly as some may wonder how can someone gay be homophobic.
For me it was part of the repressed feeling I experienced through my growing years. It first came from my mother when she told me that, "If you ever turn out to be gay, I'll kill you" those words had such an effect on me that I transformed myself into what she wanted me to be.
From the way I stood, to the way I talked and making sure my words were manly.I stayed away from expressing my love of musicals or anything that would identify me as gay.
The repression continued in high school as I wore a mask of protection as I was scared that if my peers knew that I was gay, then there would be repercussions. I found myself following the rules on what society identified as what men are supposed to do as opposed to women. I was trapped inside my skin.
The best way to visualize it is if you take a soda bottle and shake it, yet not letting the top off, you have all this built up pressure or hurt that has nowhere to go.
In that process of not being able to be who I wanted to be which was to be a man able to express my sexuality, I started to resent those who were gay and could freely express themselves. It was a resentment that made me look at those who expressed their sexuality in public with distaste.
The worst time was during gay pride celebrations. Here it was men and women celebrating their being and here I was on the side of the anti-group feeling that expression of self should be a private matter.
 I remember being with some of my straight friends and they were once talking about a guy walking by. Yelling out faggot and such, and to my surprise I was joining the chorus of hate. And by joining in I figured the guys I hung with wouldn't think I was gay as I followed their actions. I had morphed myself into thinking I was a straight man.
I finally had to look in the mirror and see the hypocrite I had made myself out to be or could I blame it on my upbringing and the rules that society placed on me.
Back then I was into daily affirmations and I came across one that connected with me. It simply stated, 'hurt people, hurt people.' Immediately I knew what it meant. It was talking to me as I was that hurt person. I was that shaken coke bottle that had no release for all the hate that I experienced. I was the hurt person because I was everything but myself. From the words of my mother which was said to me at the age of ten to my mid twenties, I was living someone else life. Even during that period of being diagnosed with HIV I still couldn't share the hurt I was going through. So i hurt others through my actions and words but never my fist.
I make no excuses for those who hurt people physically because of their sexuality, but I  bet you those people come from a place of being hurt themselves. Although their situation may be different from mine, the hurt we had was in common.
I had to learn to uncap that bottle and release all that built up hurt. That was the only way I could grow out of the hurt and grow my way into loving myself. I had to start living my life no matter what people thought. I had to stop auditioning for people's affection and attention.
Loving myself put me in a better place. Some people accused me of being cocky but it was never that as I never saw myself above others. But also I was no longer going to let others dictate my life. I was no longer going to hurt myself or others.
 I still see forms of self-hating and the gay community is not exempt. Sometimes we direct our hurt to each other. We sometimes call it 'giving shade' or we treat each other not as a unity under the rainbow flag but sometimes as disunity.
When I see us treat each other that way, it's not pity but a reflection of what i used to endure.