A positively normal relationship

Luke and I had barely started seeing each other when I found out about my HIV-positive status. Both terrified, our first concern was to figure out Luke’s status. His first test came back negative. So did the one after that, and the one after that. By the time we determined Luke wasn’t HIV positive we were dating officially and considering a serious relationship.

That brought a new worry: We didn’t know if we could actually have a relationship with one person positive and the other negative. I’d been advised not to feel like I could only date other poz guys, and now had an amazing negative guy in front of me — but it felt terrifying. Could we really last a lifetime without a major risk of transmission?

We let our relationship unfold at an incredibly slow pace. It’s already unsettling to give your heart to another person, let alone doing it in the midst of a communicable disease. But we liked each other, perhaps even loved each other, enough to take the time and energy to figure it out.

Friends on both sides chimed in with opinions. Some testified to knowing other serodiscordant couples who made it work. In fact there was even a cute nickname for such a relationship: a magnetic couple (describing how “positive” and “negative” forces attract). Others weighed in heavily that we should stick to our “own kind” to ensure a proper and safe relationship.

We consulted with doctors who, surprisingly, came off as a bit baffled by our concerns. According to them, we’d just need to follow the rules of safer sex and there shouldn’t be any worry of HIV transmission, especially if I kept total adherence to my medications.

And since medications are so effective (when taken properly), we were informed not to worry about debilitation or dying young from an AIDS-related illness. We could sigh with relief that my status wouldn’t lead to an eventual caretaking role for Luke, or worse, Luke having to bear my death.

At first safe sex still left red flags flying in the backs of both of our minds, but by the end of the first year, it felt close to the same as the sex we’d been having all our lives. Luke and I started to come to the realization that my HIV-positive status shouldn’t have much, if any, interference with our lives as a couple.

Luke continued to get frequent HIV tests. The nurses at Planned Parenthood would ask about his sexual practices and after hearing his explanation, they’d often suggest that he didn’t come back so frequently. Some even added he was he was safer with me, in a way, because he had full awareness of my status and my HIV was under control.

Luke and I wouldn’t ever be able to feel what it would be like to have sex without a piece of rubber between us. But for both of us it barely even felt like a sacrifice given the amazing amount of love we got in return. And the safer foreplay fun that didn’t require a condom satiated both of us.

Six years into our relationship now, Luke and I are baffled that HIV could have ever deterred us from being together. Over the years it’s gotten to seem almost a little too easy — from cautiousness to a sex life like any other long-term couple. Sex doesn’t determine how much we love each other, and now we know HIV doesn’t interfere with a person’s chance for a loving relationship.