Two years ago, something unexpected happened. I was seven years into an incredible relationship. We married in 2008 during the brief window when it was legal for same-sex couples to wed in California, and my husband and I became poster boys for marriage equality (really -- our wedding picture was on a poster). We initiated the process of adopting a child. Never in my life had I been so happy.
Then, suddenly, my husband shared news that I hadn't seen coming: He wanted something different and would be filing for divorce. My world crumbled. The next six months were the most painful of my life. I couldn't sleep, lost my appetite, and went numb inside.
On the outside, I refused to show it. I started dating, went out to bars, and even made some decisions in the heat of the moment that I normally wouldn't. I was determined to convince the world (and myself) that I was fine. In retrospect, it was a fairly common response to intense emotional trauma.
My doctor wasn't fooled. He referred me to a therapist to start the hard work of healing. He also prescribed Truvada, a drug that protects against HIV infection. It's a groundbreaking HIV prevention strategy known as pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP, which has been proven highly effective when taken correctly. PrEP is an especially good option for people during "seasons" of risk, or for anyone who struggles with perfect condom use 100 percent of the time.
AIDS Healthcare Foundation (AHF), the largest U.S. provider of HIV/AIDS services, is spending millions trying to position PrEP as controversial and deny access for people like me. Following a failed attempt to block FDA approval, its current tactic is to demonize the drug and shame its users. On social media, rhetoric from AHF's campaign against PrEP often crops up in posts on the topic. It's strikingly similar to the "controversy" that initially accompanied FDA approval of oral contraception for women. In the early days, single women who sought the pill to prevent pregnancy were labeled "whores."
When it comes to HIV, the idea that condomless sex with PrEP can also be protected sex is novel. As time passes, it will become less so. This isn't the first time AHF has fought progress by taking a position that ignores scientific evidence and sets it apart from the HIV/AIDS community. Some suggest the organization manufactures controversy to keep its name in the headlines and stay relevant.
Progress isn't possible when shame is present. It's time for a more humane and loving approach. We must come together to foster compassionate dialogue grounded in scientific evidence about all of the available options to protect ourselves and take care of each other. That is the only way we will end HIV transmission.
Research has repeatedly linked shame and stigma to the very behaviors that put people at risk in the first place. That was true in the case of my divorce, and as my healing progressed I overcame the shame and stigma that accompanied it. I got an STD during my personal season of risk, which was promptly identified and treated. PrEP doesn't protect against STDs, but it does increase opportunities to identify and treat them, because PrEP requires regular screening.
PrEP may not be right for everyone, but everyone deserves the chance to choose. Nobody should be allowed to take that away. We must work together to educate, empower, and support each other, and beat back dangerous attempts by any person or organization attempting to block access or shut down dialogues. Today, I no longer need PrEP, but I remain very grateful for it. Just like I'm grateful for all the friends and family who provided the unconditional love and support that I needed to help get back on my feet.
There's a sort of beauty in falling apart. When you put back the pieces, you get to build a better version of yourself. In my case, that version did not include HIV infection. I can't help but think that if AHF had its way, PrEP would have never been approved, and my story would be different.