Poz-ish
OK, how about a Poz Lite, ease into this
New Year, new me. Or back to the ‘old’ me. Or some evolution of the two. Something old, something new (nothing borrowed, not so blue.)
The recent move has had much to do with my ‘rebirth.’ I hadn’t had an apartment I could or even wanted to call home since Pre-K. Finally, a space of my own, comfortable, safe, affordable. I feel settled for the first time in forever.
Working again, decent, honest work, wholesome, strenuous but not stressful … and able to save a penny or two rather than beg and borrow just to pay the bills. Adds greatly to that settled feeling I mentioned.
And, no doubt, this has all had a direct correlation on my health, which continues to improve. We won’t talk about healthcare just now; that’s for another time.
I know I risk unleashing some evil mojo by bragging about my recent change of fortune, so let me quickly assure you that life is not all sunshine and lollipops. Rather, it’s like I’ve got a life once again, and all that goes with it.
Frinstance …
As you may have heard, I’ve started dating again. Before I started dating, though, I started fucking. No, the two are not only not synonymous, they’re often not even related. Seriously, if I had “dated” everyone I’ve been to bed with … well, for one thing, I wouldn’t have had as much time to bed so many if I first had to wine and dine. Priorities, people.
Anyway ….
As some of you know, I’m not big on ‘gay’ bars. I hate the segregated feeling. It’s the new millennium. Race, color, creed, orientation: that shit went out before bell-bottoms. Let’s mix it up a bit, eh? There needs be variation on the buffet.
So, I started logging into some of the “chat rooms” I used to frequent to meet my mates. At first glance, they haven’t changed much over the years; profiles and photos are exchanged in hopes of hooking up for mutual satisfaction. Usually, in my case, successfully (but that’s coz I’m a babe and witty as well and everyone wants a piece of me.)
When I started paying closer attention, though, there is a new dynamic. Much emphasis is placed on “status,” so much so that a feeling of segregation even more severe than that I feel in bars begins to emerge. On one’s profile, just below eye color, hair color, and cock size is “status” and the option of replying positive, negative, or don’t know, or the choice of leaving it unanswered. Many men go so far as to state on their profiles, “don’t even contact me if your status is not …”
And that requirement is as often HIV+ as not.
Now, that threw me for a such a loop I had to enquire within. Why, I asked several by IM or email, will you only entertain the notion of entertaining someone who is also poz?
Responses, sadly, were perfectly sensible: it just makes life easier. More fun, less fret. No need for condoms. Biggest worries are clap or crabs, like in the “good old days.”
FOR THOSE OF US WHO ARE POZ!
The rest of you unlucky bastards still have to play safe. Sorry. Coz you just don’t know.
Chatting with a potential bedmate recently, he admitted that he was in a relationship and that his partner didn’t know he fooled around. Ya know what, I don’t really care, not if we’re talking about a quickie, entering the affair knowing it’s a one-time deal. It‘s his conscience/karma to deal with as he sees fit. As long as we‘re having safe sex, my conscience is clear. And I told him just that.
(Now, if he was wanting some kind of a regular, return, frequent-flier program, the rules are different. If he’s lying to the one he supposedly holds most near and dear, how can I expect him to be honest with me.)
He then went on to confess that he is poz, though his profile says just the opposite. Not “don’t know” and not left blank, his profile clearly says “negative.”
And THAT I have a problem with. And I told him just that.
"I’m not lying", he protests, "just choosing when to disclose."
No, dude, you are outright lying. And I want nothing further to do with you.
And this has happened more than once. Not the exact same exchange, but I’ve found that a large portion of the gay population is outright lying about their status to their potential partners. And it pisses me off no end.
It may not directly affect me, no reason to change my immediate behavior, but lies like that just fuck the entire community. We all lose in the end.
On one such site, in the “more about me” section, I wrote: Yes, I’m HIV +. But in this day and age, if you don’t know how to protect yourself then you shouldn’t be allowed out of the door without your nanny (it goes on, but that’s the only bit relative here and now.)
I’ve received comments from both sides of the HIV community thanking me for my honesty. And, more often than not, asking to know more about me.
Honesty. Glad to know that some people still have a place for it in their lives.
I’ve more rant to come, but I gotta take a breathe. Besides, I’ve got a date tonight!