In good times and bad times, it’s more often than not our friends who are by our side, essentially becoming our true family. Greg Page examines why peer friendships are particularly important for positive people and why they can be the most important ships you’ll ever set sail through rocky seas with.
There’s an old saying that you can choose your friends and not your family. Little wonder then that the people many of us first turned to, when diagnosed HIV+, were our friends and not our biological family.
For gay men particularly, a network of close friends often provides a surrogate family, especially in the absence of having children, as is most commonly the case. Our friends become the people we cling to in crises, either health or relationship-related. They are there for us to party with, to recover with, to celebrate with, and also to commiserate with. They are, clearly, the most important people in our lives.
For HIV+ people, having a circle of friends who can understand your experience, relate to what you are going through and perhaps offer canny advice, or words of wisdom, is invaluable. It’s quite likely that this circle will comprise friends who are themselves HIV+.
From my own experience, I have found that while HIV- friends can be caring and sympathetic when discussing matters of a “poz” nature, more often than not, it is the HIV+ friends who “get me”. They are the ones who don’t pass judgment on me, who don’t just pat me on the back and say “you’ll be okay mate” and are the ones who help guide me through the maze and mystery of being gay and positive in a straight and negative world!
When disclosing to my negative friends that I was HIV+, almost without exception, I had a variety of unsettling experiences. More often than not, they would cry (which would in turn make me cry, seeing them so distressed. They would ask “how long do you have?” and then afterwards kiss me chastely on the cheek and never on the lips. One even admonished me by declaring, “Well, we are all responsible for our own actions”, as if I had purposely gone out of my way to become positive. It took a while for me to realize that this person was not someone I needed to have in my life, friend or otherwise.
It was when I told my friends I had seroconverted who were themselves HIV+ that I finally got a supportive response. This made me realize real friends don’t judge you. They are there for you when you need them, and even call you out of the blue every so often just to check you’re doing okay.
In the five years since I become positive I’ve met a lot of new people. For the first two years I partied hard to try and forget. I fell into crystal for a short spell, then pulled myself out of that, had a lot of anonymous bareback sex with poz guys just because I felt I could.
I also joined some support groups. It was through the support groups that I eventually discovered I could get on with my life, that there were role models for me, and that I didn’t just have to sink into a mire of disco, drugs and sex.
I also got involved in a massage course and studied hard for a year. I now volunteer once a week for a few hours doing massages for HIV+ clients. I get a lot out of it – not only good karma – but it makes me feel like I can demonstrate to people that, even though I may be HIV+, I’m not letting it get the better of me and I’m still trying to help others.
My 14-year relationship with a negative man eventually unraveled as he found it too challenging to cope with having a positive partner. Part of that was to do with him having had a partner previously who had died of AIDS. It was sad for both of us, because we loved each other dearly, but I realized if I had to be true to myself then we had to part ways. Slowly we are re-establishing a friendship, but once again I find it hard to discuss certain things with him because that “negative” judging still rears its ugly head on occasion and I feel like I can’t be open with him about my expectations and what I want in my life.
I’ve learnt a great deal from being HIV+ for five years, and when a friend of mine became positive two years ago, I was able to support and help him and be there for him. It truly brought us closer together. Even though he now lives in London, we speak almost every week, give each other updates on our lives and discuss our health, CD4 levels and viral loads and any “miracle” cures we’ve heard of in the press. We’re both still to be convinced Spirulina is worth the effort it takes to quaff down, with that disgusting taste and ugly green colour!
Now at this point in my life I can say I am certainly healthy – my viral load is undetectable and my CD4s are stable. I have a very close friend who is also HIV+ and we see each other almost daily. Most people assume we are lovers, or boyfriends, but although we did have sex initially, our relationship has blossomed into a very deep, very intense friendship, the kind of which I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. We care for each other, sometimes fight with each other like brothers, but always know that we are the most important person in each other’s lives. To me that is true friendship.
Other friends, particularly those who I met on the party scene over the last few years, have eventually faded into the background, or I have distanced myself from them. When I disclosed to some of them I was positive, I wished afterwards I hadn’t. Many of them really only want the “happy, sunny, dance party” buddy. They didn’t want to have to deal with the spectre of medication, health scares and facing your mortality. Many of those people I’ve simply let go. When I see them on the street and they ask, “How are you doing?” I simply smile and reply, “I’m doing the best I can” and walk on by. After all, if there’s one thing in life you need to depend on as a gay man, it’s your friends.
I still haven’t told my family about my positive status and doubt I ever will. Hopefully the need won’t ever arise. I don’t necessarily feel like I am keeping something important from them, more so that I’m shielding them from something they really wouldn’t understand and have no experience of. That’s why I value my poz friends who take me as I am, understand the things I’m going through and help me get on with my life. That’s what friends are for, as the song goes.
That's what songs are for!
When the AIDS crisis first struck in the early 80s, a motley group of pop stars gathered together to record a special charity song, That’s What Friends Are For. Written by Burt Bacharach and Carole Bayer Sager and credited to Dionne Warwick and Friends (Gladys Knight, Elton John and Stevie Wonder) it was released towards the end of 1985. Soon afterwards the ballad soared to #1, eventually becoming the top hit of 1986, winning a Grammy as Song of the Year and more importantly raising millions of dollars for the American Foundation for AIDS Research (AmFAR). That’s What Friends Are For has since been covered by names such as Shirley Bassey, Helen Reddy, David Campbell and Rod Stewart.
Keep smiling, keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me, for sure
That's what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I'll be on your side forever more
That's what friends are for
