Because of everyone’s support, I’d like to share one story regarding my experience being infected by HIV. I’m more interested in talking about growing, but I guess I opened a can of worms. I posted this on Quora a few years ago. I did it because I find writing and sharing healing to me - but I also want to write to make it interesting for readers:
What is something your parent said that made you die a little inside?
“You have a death sentence.”
I was born with hemophilia (1974). In the early eighties, HIV was introduced into the blood supply.
Hemophiliacs depend on the blood supply in order to stop our bleeds (our blood doesn’t have a specific clotting factor…thus our body can’t always stop internal bleeding from a bump, an accident, or even anything in particular).
As a result, I was infected by the tainted blood supply when I was 10 years old. Back then, before HIV, hemophiliacs were treated much like asthmatics or diabetics were treated. Everyone felt a bit bad for their lot in life, and were sensitive to their disease issues. That changed for hemophiliacs almost overnight. Now, they were suspect. Adults who were once warm and friendly toward me suddenly looked at me from a distance. I was 10 years old. I had no idea why.
This was a time of fear. As a boy, I recall many television news programs talking about AIDS. In the early days, they called it “gay cancer.” A lot of gay folks called it “blood cancer,” so to save face to their parents and communities (as they lay dying).
I lived through that time (during my formative teen years). In 9th grade health class, I sat in the front row sweating as the health/gym teacher told everyone that one avenue for infection was having hemophilia. I walked out of class that day in a daze — wondering who, in my small town, knew that I had hemophilia…and would connect the dots.
I miraculously left that classroom with none of my classmates being wiser (I believe).
In 11th grade, I met a girl who made my heart flutter. Like any other teen, we dated. I struggled between love and fear. I wanted to kiss, explore, etc., just like we all did.
My parents (pre-baby boomers) saw the writing on the wall. They didn’t have the emotional maturity to help me through these times (they were of the time where kids were seen, not heard). I was a smart kid, and I knew I needed to be super careful around my girlfriend (like, it was on my mind constantly).
Since I was still an (older) kid, I loved Christmas (barely 17 years old). I loved everything about it; family together, a wonderful meal, happiness, and gifts.
This Christmas Eve was different though. My older siblings weren’t quite home yet (I was so excited to see them, as they didn’t live here any longer). And, the most special part was my girlfriend would be coming over right after opening presents. I was super excited for my girlfriend to meet my siblings.
My parents were doing last-minute spot-checks/clean up (clearing wrapping paper remnants). I was just out of the shower (as we were going to church in a bit). I had my best church/Christmas clothes on, and I was walking around with a hair brush (getting my hair in order).
My dad called me downstairs (my mom was next to him). I was a teen, so I went about halfway down the stairs and sat on the landing, fooling around with the hairbrush.
I spouted off, “What, Dad?” There was a slight pause as I fumbled with the hairbrush impatiently.
He said, “You know you have a death sentence, and it would be best to be very careful around your girlfriend.”
The hairbrush I was holding unexpectedly snapped in my hands, I had broken it in half without even realizing it. I didn’t say a word, I just walked up the stairs with tears streaming down my face.
That was the last Christmas I ever felt innocent joy.
My family did meet my girlfriend that evening, it was quite uncomfortable for me.
Six hours previous, I was on top of the world. I was finally in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship…just like everyone else. I was normal (just for a moment).
Post script - My girlfriend became my wife. That was 1991. We married in 2000. I don’t believe my parents ever realized the pain those words caused me. They do seem pretty happy I made it through though, and it wasn’t a death sentence.
The phrase my dad uttered still stings, and I’ve never really felt the joy of Christmas that I once had.
for hours , and listen to binual frequencies and tropical rain forest music 
and enjoy it , im that guy everyday friend .