Disclosure (Part 1)

Disclosure is such a massive hurdle.  It's so hard to know where to start, who to tell, what to say.  It's terrifying.  It's like coming out all over again.  Naturally, it can lead to feelings of sadness, regret, fear and self-loathing.  These feelings are completely natural, and I will talk through each.  There is a lot to cover, so I will be doing this over 2 posts.

The process of disclosure is a tricky maze to navigate.  Do you just blow it all at once, like ripping off a band-aid?  Do you drip-feed to the people closest to you until you're comfortable with the level of disclosure?  For me, I have disclosed on singles sites, here (obviously) and in person with those close to me.  I have not disclosed on Facebook, and I have been selective about the family who know.  But, the act of disclosure is constant - we are always meeting new people, and the battle to tell or not to tell is ongoing.

The act of disclosing is an act of trauma.  You are putting the truth out there, for good or for ill.  It's the ultimate test of character both for yourself and for the person you are telling.  Regret is the biggest emotional reaction to disclosing, and it's the one that needs to be talked about the most.  Regret in telling someone.  Regret in not telling them sooner.  Regret in chickening out and delaying the conversation.  Regret in losing that someone when they react poorly.

But regret is an emotion of failure.  It's telling yourself you did it wrong.  And there is nothing wrong in speaking the truth.  For good or ill, the truth is the ultimate panacea.  It generates it's own truth in response, it creates a line which lies can't cross.  Disclosing, even if it means losing someone, is ultimately the only way to know for sure.

So, how do you disclose without hitting the regret wall?  Well, you could try hypothetical conversations.  "What would happen if one of us was poz?"  "I met a poz guy the other day.  How does that make you feel?"  Test the waters.  Adjust the conversation until you get the truth of what they think.  Maybe try a link to an article on HIV.  Bring it up in conversation - "Hey, did you hear that according to science, undetectable guys are pretty much non contagious?"  Raise the topic and see what reaction you get.  If it's one you don't like, perhaps reconsider disclosing until you feel it's safe.  Or not at all.  Disclosure isn't essential after all.  Unless you're in a relationship, but we will get to that in part 2.

Fear is another massive roadblock to deciding when and how to disclose.  Fear of rejection, fear of a bad reaction, even fear of your own ideas about the virus. Fear is completely natural and should never be looked at as a demon on your back.  What fear needs, is understanding.  Know what you fear.  Give yourself time to isolate precisely what it is that makes you so afraid.  For me, the idea that my conservative family will find out and make a massive drama out of it, is my greatest fear.  But that's a fear based on their ignorance, rather than my own.  So rather than educate them, I chose not to tell them. 

I will be rectifying that with this blog post.  When this Disclosure post goes live, it will also go live on Facebook.  It's time to face my fear, and finally tell the truth.

Once you know what you fear, think about what you can do to overcome it.  Is your fear that your friends will reject you?  Maybe start posting on your Facebook some link to HIV education.  Maybe talking to someone outside of your social circle, asking them what they fear.  Most certainly communicate with other poz people.  Find out what they feared, and how they overcame it.  Everyone's fears are different, because everyone is different.  But they have common ground. 

I have many conversations with poz people (mainly guys) about this topic.  And every single one of them tells me one things which resonates.  It's a common theme among all poz people.  Disclosure sucks.  It sucks hard.  But it doesn't have to.  Take your time.  Tell who you think you need to tell.  Don't tell anyone.  It's completely up to you.  For me, I like the strength that disclosure gives me.  It puts me in the position of saying "Yes, I have a virus.  It's nothing to be ashamed of.  It's not killing me.  It's mine, and I choose to tell you."

In case you were wondering, I used the band-aid method, told everyone over the course of about three days.  But that's me, I'm not one to dwell on stuff.  It interrupts my sunbaking.