The First Time I Thought I Would Be Rejected

The First Time I Thought I Would be Rejected

I remember the first
time I thought about
sharing my HIV diagnosis
with a sexual partner.

I was nervous.
And I was afraid of the rejection that could come with that openness.

He was a long-term friend. At the time, I was in my hometown, and he
was living somewhere else. We had already planned to spend
some time together, plans that were made before my diagnosis.

But as the trip got closer, everything changed.

I felt this pressure to tell him.
I knew that if we spent time together, intimacy would naturally happen.

And the truth is… at that time, I didn’t really understand HIV myself.

So I told him.

I sent a long message - full of explanations, trying to justify, to clarify, to make sense of it all. I remember how emotional I felt writing it.

I sent the text…
and nothing had actually happened yet.

He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t given me a reason to think the way I was thinking.

But in my head, the story was already so vivid.

He’s not going to understand.
He’s going to look at me differently.
He won’t want to spend time with me anymore.
This is the moment everything changes.

The strange thing is…
those thoughts didn’t start with him.

They started with me.

Before anyone had the chance to reject me, I had already started rejecting myself. I had already imagined the distance, the hesitation, the silence. And the more I thought about it, the more real it felt.

It took a while for him to reply.

When he did, he said:
“I will answer you soon.”

He first asked how I was.

And then, some of the fears I had imagined became real.

He told me he didn’t feel comfortable spending time with me at that moment.

I don’t remember exactly what I said back.

But I do remember not feeling angry at him, for whatever justification I had made up in my head.

Looking back, I can see how loud my own thoughts were - how much shame and guilt I was already carrying within myself.

I decided to go on the trip anyway.

I knew I needed time alone, to process everything, to understand where my mind and my heart were after all of that.

We stayed in touch.

And a few months later, we met again.

We spent a weekend together, and he apologised.

He told me he had taken the time to learn more about HIV - and this time, he showed up with understanding and support.

Looking back now,
I see that moment differently.

It wasn’t just about rejection.

At first, it was about how quickly we create stories in our minds -
and how easily we believe them.

But later, I realised something else.

It wasn’t really about rejection.

It was about fear.

About not knowing.
About not understanding.

Living with HIV didn’t just challenge how others might see me.

It forced me to look at how I see myself first.

I learned that sometimes,
the hardest part isn’t what others think.

It’s unlearning what we’ve already told ourselves - and deciding how we respond to what life puts in front of us.

Because in the end,
what we don’t say
often shapes us more than what we do.

-With love, Phellipe

Share it With a Friend