I Was Shocked When I Tested HIV+ in My 50s. Twenty Years Later, I’m Happier Than Ever.

As told to Nicole Audrey Spector

Back when I worked for the Coast Guard, we used to have regular health checkups. Sexually transmitted infection (STI) testing, including HIV, was done routinely. My results always came back negative. No surprise there.

I believed I had no reason to worry because I didn’t have any risk factors that I knew of. I wasn’t a drug user and I was only ever in long-term and trusting monogamous relationships. Plus, I was pretty involved in my community — handing out condoms and advocating for safe sex among people at heightened risk. I kept myself pretty educated.

Later, when I was in my 50s, I experienced a stabbing, throbbing pain in my mouth. An infection, I thought. I went to my primary care doctor, who ran a series of tests.

Soon after, I got a call back.

“I have good news and bad news,” the doctor said. “The bad news is you have HIV. The good news is that we caught it in time. It’s not AIDS. With the proper medication, you can live a normal life.”

This was a lot to take in. How could it be?! I engaged in no high-risk behaviors.

In the days that followed, I questioned God. “Why me?” I was not only sad, I was very sick, down 20 lbs. from what was a healthy weight for me. And I just couldn't comprehend how I’d contracted this STI.

“Can you write down the names of the last persons you’ve been sexually active with?” the doctor asked.

The list consisted of one name, an ex with whom I’d been in a long-term relationship. I thought, “He betrayed me. He put my life in danger. And I had no idea!” I pieced it all together. Regularly he had medication delivered to our house, and I’d hand him over the mail, trusting that this was his business and whatever he was treating wasn’t contagious. He said it was for a skin infection. But my doctors explained this must have been HIV medication, as testing detected traces of that medication in my system.

Bottom line: He knew he had HIV and he had unprotected sex with me for years anyway. I confronted him after my diagnosis, and he continued to tell me he’d had no idea he was HIV positive. He would later die of AIDS.

I’m the oldest of 10 children and come from a long line of strong Black people. My mom, who died of lung cancer (she hadn’t smoked a day in her life) before she could even see 50 years old, taught me to always hold my head up high and never let myself succumb to shame or embarrassment. So even though I was going through an emotional rollercoaster, I never felt silenced and I told my loved ones about my diagnosis right away.

1990, Marie age 40

Overall, my friends and family were sympathetic and eager to lend a hand. Some found it tragically ironic that I’d end up HIV+, since I was known to always preach about safe sex.

Though most people close to me were supportive, there were some who were judgmental, gossipy and cruel. They’d chatter behind my back, “Oh, don’t eat or drink around her,” they’d whisper with a sneer. “She’s got that thang.”

They still thought of HIV as a fatal virus you could mysteriously spread through shared tableware. H-I-V was, to them, three scarlet letters that essentially spelled, “dirty slut.” I knew they were ignorant and didn’t deserve my time, but it still hurt to be talked about like that.

My true friends rallied around me and brought me food, trying to bring back my vanished appetite. They helped me transition into a new phase of life, a life of living with a manageable but incurable disease that is still heavily stigmatized in our society.

At first, I was taking a lot of meds and living with a lot of side effects. Thanks to my support system and my faith (not only in God but also in my excellent medical team), the depression that veiled my mind when I was first diagnosed lifted. I felt as grateful as ever to be here, knowing that I have angels on my shoulders who are looking out for and guiding me.

Twenty-something years later, I’m 76 and happier than ever. I take very little medication to stay healthy. My days are peaceful and joyous. I dance around my home to music that makes me feel loose and fun. I watch Gunsmoke to unwind. I read and relish solitude. Life is good. Oh — and much to my own surprise — I am in love again! With a great man, Lorenzo, who pursued me for three months before I gave him a chance.

“I have HIV,” I told him right away. “I’m on medication. I do not have sex without a condom, and I’m not thirsty.”

“No problem,” Lorenzo said. “I want me a good woman. I want you.”

Marie’s granddaughter, Jada, and her daughter, Robyn, 2025

Perhaps the only person more surprised than I am to have found love again is my daughter. She was shocked when she found out about Lorenzo. She’s very supportive and open about my having HIV, but she’s also protective and worries about me being involved with men. I think she’s let go of her anxieties a bit and has become more accepting, but it’s been a tough road for her to get here. And I get it: Children of parents with HIV have to process it all too. They’re also vulnerable to the stigma.

We all have down days, regardless of whether we live with an incurable disease, and I don’t always wake up in a jolly, inspired mood — but I know how to quickly fix that. I get up, walk to the bathroom like I own the world, put on my nice makeup and smile at myself in the mirror.

“You are a sexy and beautiful woman,” I say. “I am who I am and I am a survivor.”

I’ve learned that if you want to tune out negativity, you have to pump yourself up. If you don’t take time every day to be your own cheerleader, you’ll risk getting caught up in depression and potentially stop taking care of yourself.

So, if you’re like me and living with HIV or a similar condition, or even if you’re in perfect health, I want you to know that you stand for something. You’re on a journey. Your body may become hurt or infected, but your spirit won’t. Take care of her, be kind to her and never let her down.

Resources

Therapy Tribe - HIV/AIDS Tribe

HIV Testing Locator

My HIV Team

The Well Project

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