Feels just like it should

After more than four years of procrastination and countless excuses, rationalizations, and postponements, I finally took the HIV Antibody Test again.

Since taking it for the first time in 1995, I have taken the HIV Antibody Test once a year. As a trained HIV/AIDS counselor, I know the importance of taking the test on a regular basis. And for a long time I had no problem sticking with this edict even if I think I knew that my levels of risks remained the same. I was scared when I first took the test in '95 because of my sexual behavior. But after receiving my first training on HIV/AIDS, I have tried to do have sex as safely as possible. I was a stickler for monogamy then. But in between relationships I fucked like a rabbit.

After my first test I have always viewed the HAT as some sort of my affirmation of my so-called behavior change. As an AIDS advocate, I viewed testing negative as of the utmost importance. I always thought that people who work in the AIDS field has no reason or excuse to get infected with HIV. I deeply believed that AIDS workers who got infected sexually should leave the field in shame. As for me, I was always confident that I would test negative each time I took the test, which meant that my credibility as an AIDS advocate has remained untarnished.

Until 2003, about a year before I went to Cambodia. Things at work were not going well because our new executive director was a big blubbering idiot who has taken to burdening me with countless whimsical tasks. My three-year relationship with a philandering but beautiful liar was heading nowhere fast. I was stress eating, drinking a lot, and spending many sleepless nights that my pimples flared up as if I were a teenager again and dark circles formed around my eyes. I felt unattractive. 

My job required me to make regular trips to provinces in Southern Philippines to monitor the projects that our partner NGOs were implementing. These trips had always been strictly business for me. I'd get there usually at the first flight out of Manila, then start with work right after getting out of the airport and checking my luggage at the hotel. After all the meetings and site visits, I usually had dinner with our partners on the night before I returned to Manila. As Chewbacca said, "Garbage in, garbage out". 

But when the worms of discontent started boring holes in my disposition, my eyes began straying from the path that I cultivated so hard. And when the glances I threw away were returned, I was elated. I felt attractive again. And so, against my better (and repressed) nature, I began to sleep around during these field visits. It seemed that in every province, in every town I went to, I had at least one sexual partner. These encounters ranged from the frightening (when I went with someone who was clearly high on drugs and showed track marks on his arms) to the sublime (due to a show of unexpected tenderness from a burly construction worker).

After every episode I always told myself not to do it again but like a drug dependent I always did it again when the next opportunity came. In the city, I started going to my pre-1995 haunts to pick up men. In the cinema I met someone and in the span of about eight months we would have sex every time we saw each other. The sex we had was almost always penetrative and unprotected. Then on September of that year I went to India to attend a 2-week training. I have always thought Indian men to be very handsome but I never thought I would get some action in New Delhi because we were confined in a hotel. Besides, this was illegal in India. I could get arrested so finding sexual adventures in India was not my priority. Nevertheless, I let an employee of the hotel talk me into receiving a massage, for a small fee, from him. This of course, led to sex and in the 16 days I was in that hotel, I slept with him–and his friend–many times. These experiences were more than enough to make me stay away from my regular test.

The start of 2004 saw the complete dissolution of my relationship and things at work took a turn for the worse. Within three months I would be in Cambodia, initially on holiday then ended up staying. The well-known high prevalence of HIV deterred me from doing any sexual exploration of the country. I was determined to make a new life, sex included. I met a Cambodian who would eventually become my fifth lover. For months I was comforted by my newfound monogamy. But when we split at the start of 2005 I was completely distraught. By this time I was already familiar with the city. I began to explore its sexual geography in ways that were unfamiliar with my friends. And I slept with many men again, making sure each encounter was protected. Still, I kept putting off my regular test, even if I had my annual physical check-up.

2006 came and along with it, things and people from my past. For some reason my ex Kimrun and I found ourselves together again. And by this time, my apprehension towards taking the test has mutated into a terrible fear that gnawed at me so much that I really began to believe that I would certainly test positive should I undergo the HIV Antibody Test. This fear made to stay away from any talks of testing. It also affected our sex life. But why was I so afraid? It's not that I fear death. Besides, these days, with access to the right medicines and treatments, HIV infection is fairly manageable. So it wasn't fear of death or fear of getting sick chronically. 

I realized that my fear was borne out of deep shame. If I tested positive, I felt that I would lose all credibility in my work in the AIDS field. And that I failed in my personal advocacy. All my rancor and disdain for people I knew in the past who were very promiscuous in spite of doing AIDS work, people who visibly engaged in risky behavior then called themselves AIDS advocates, for people who said one thing and did another, and all feelings and judgments I repressed because I was a counselor got distilled into this bitter bile that I myself couldn't bear to swallow. When I dared say this to a friend, I was shocked at her reply. "If you test positive, it just means you slipped and got infected. It doesn't diminish you as a person. It just shows you're human, imperfect." I couldn't comprehend it at first but gradually my realization grew. She has a point. But this did not allay my fears. It will probably take me longer to unlearn my twisted beliefs.

Until one day, I decided. What the hell. Just take it and get it over and done with. I asked Kimrun to accompany me to the test and my heart expanded when he said he'd take the test with me. We went to this private clinic where all the staff did not speak a word of English. There goes my counseling, I thought. Kimrun told me we don't need it, since we already know about HIV and all that. While waiting for our turn I noticed that there were many male and female couples waiting with us. I asked Kimrun about it and smiling mischievously, he explained that this clinic catered mostly to couples who were about to get married. "So after our tests, we have to get married also," he said, laughing.

That same afternoon Kimrun came to my house and brought the results. The fact that he was able to get my results was enough to clue me in on my result. Had I tested positive, the clinic would have asked me to go there and receive a proper counseling and referral. So there. I am relishing my test results with a resolve to stay this way and a broader understanding of myself in case something happens to the contrary.

And in case you want to know, the sex got better after our tests!