INTERVIEW with CANADA'S ONLINE HIV MAGAZINE POSTIVELITE.COM

My name is Justin B Terry-Smith, I'm a Black Gay man living in Laurel, Maryland and I am HIV+. I've decided to share my story because I feel it's important that people who have unprotected sex know what they might be getting themselves into.

Justin B Terry-Smith, Author, Advice Columnist, Award Winning Activist & Video Blogger has been infected with HIV since 2005.  Diagnosed in 2006, he has made his mission to educate others about HIV and to make sure the community and the world are aware of the disease.  Since 1999 he has been an activist for Gay rights and in 2004 began HIV activism.  He’s garnered recognition and awards for his work, but he’s more concerned about looking for new ways to transform society for the better than resting on his laurels.  He is currently residing in Laurel Maryland living and loving life with his husband.  Dr. Philip B Terry-Smith.  Terry-Smith will be pursuing his Master's in Public Health this year and will not stop activism until the day he dies.

People have asked me why I am doing this, why have I put my personal business out like this. I tell them it is to help educate people, to make them aware and to make them think twice about having unprotected sex. This is my personal journey that needs to be told to help the community and the world

I was raised in Silver Spring, Maryland with a silver spoon in my mouth.  Even though both my parents were present in my life, growing up wasn’t easy for me.

I left my home in search of a life that would make me feel freer to explore my sexuality, but that freedom came at a cost.  Living in NW Washington DC I had to try to hold down three jobs to keep my head above water.  In the daytime I worked for the government, in the afternoons I worked as a waiter and at night I worked as an exotic dancer under the name, “Justice”, which I have now tattooed on my right arm.  I took a look at my face in the mirror and realized that I looked like I was 19 years old going on 91 years old; I had to do something else with my life.

In the fall of 1999 I saw a metro bus drive by with a sign that said, “United States Air Force  - AIM High”.  That was all it took, so I joined the U.S. Air Force and it was one of the best times of my life.  I wound up being stationed at Dover AFB, Delaware.  But also I have to admit that it was one of the worst  I went through hell and back in the military, because I was gay and felt enclosed that I couldn’t love openly who I wanted to.

I had good and bad experiences in the military but the worst was being sexually harassed, domestically abused and raped.  I couldn't escape because if I told someone about it then questions would arise and I would have surely been kicked out under “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. 

I met my then partner in the summer of 2003 when I was still in the military, when I was stationed at Dover AFB and he was living in DC. After being honorably discharged from the military I moved back to the Washington DC area and within 2 years my relationship with him would come to its conclusion.

I ended up living in an apartment in SW DC at the Waterfront, with two friends of mine named Anthony and David.  My behavior then was erratic and out of control. I started doing things that just really weren't me. I started stripping again and started heavily drinking and sometimes doing drugs.  All this and I still was able to land a contracting job with Department of Justice.

David became very sick and could barely walk; after battling HIV he was told he had full blown AIDS.  I knew when I moved in that he was not doing so well.  I helped bath and feed him.  Sometimes I would even help him when he needed to get sick or use the toilet.  Anthony and David got along for the most part but it got too much for Anthony to handle and he was the only person on the lease.  I came home one day to see a woman in my apartment.  It was David’s mother and she said that Anthony had called to have her take him back to her house in Baltimore, Maryland.  David had once told both of us that is where he did not want to go.  Two weeks later I got a phone call from David’s mother that he was dead.

Anthony began to hit on me at one point but I refused his advances.  He eventually changed the locks on the apartment door and I didn’t know why.  I quickly tapped my resources and found a small studio apartment down the street.

In the latter part of 2006 I would often get sick and I didn't know why. I had to call into work several times because I was so under the weather and I eventually lost my job. I knew something was wrong with me and I knew I needed to get checked for HIV. One morning I woke up and threw up 5 times. I had flu-like symptoms and my satin sheets were wet with sweat.

I decided to call my best friend Bryan and have him meet me at Us Helping Us People Into Living Inc. (UHU). UHU is where people can get tested for HIV in the Washington DC area for free. I had felt comfortable being at UHU because I used to work there and still had friends who were employed there. I ended up getting there before my best friend and decided to go get tested. I was administered the Orasure Test which can come up with the results within 20 minutes.

I was so nervous. I honestly didn't think that I had HIV. I came up with excuses and said things to myself like, 'I don't feel sick now, nothing could be wrong with me', 'I'm 26 I couldn't be HIV+'. By the time the test was ready I had smoked about 10 cigarettes. I walked back into the HIV testing room and the reader asked me, 'Are you ready to hear your results, Mr. Smith?' I said, 'Yes I am'. She said, 'Mr. Smith you've tested positive for the HIV virus'.

I was devastated. I couldn't believe it. The first thing I thought was I can't have any children. My second thought was what am I going to tell my parents, they would be destroyed. Then the final thought is I'm going to die.

Bryan arrived at the clinic and saw it in my eyes. He held me tight as I wept in his arms and I felt comfort and security in his arms. 

I decided to fight, to fight to stay a live. When I told my father he handled it any way a father can handle their son telling him he has HIV, but my father is strong.  Unfortunately a close family member told my mother.  I got a call from my family and they were all crying; I thought someone in my family had passed away.  My brother asked, “Justin, be honest with me.  We heard you have AIDS, is that true?”  I quickly said, “No”.  He said, “Are you lying to me?”  I said. “No I do not have AIDS?”  He then asked. “Do you have HIV?”  I said, “Yes I have HIV”.  He started crying and so did my mother and other family members.  I could hear them in the background.  I told my brother to put me on speaker phone.  I told them, “I need you not to cry for me, be strong with me”

After about 2 years of being HIV+ I was forced to go on meds with a T-cell count of 261 and Viral Load of 77,000. I did research and tried to find someone (a black male) that was documenting their lives while on meds but sadly I couldn’t find one.  I decided to do it on my own, so I created “Justin’s HIV Journal” on YouTube.  I started my first entry with an introduction and why I was doing what I was doing.  It began to help me because it forced me to be honest about what was happening to me.

When thast first entry had gotten its first comment I was so excited except when I saw what the person said. “So you got poked by a dirty dick, so what”.  I couldn’t believe it I had poured my heart and soul out and someone who just felt like stepping on it because it suited them.  I thought how heartless can someone be.  Then I got my second comment and it was a lot more encouraging and made me keep going.

I thought that I needed to expand and so I went onto to blogspot.com and started writing, with the videos that I would make for Justin’s HIV Journal and I put them there for the world to see.  Then I opened up a Myspace and Facebook account and started pasting my entries there.  I even have my video entries on black gay chat.com.  Because of Justin’s HIV Journal I’ve written for Black AIDS Institute, Gay Life Newspaper in Baltimore MD, thebody.com etc.  The more I do this the more people are aware of HIV and keep in the back of their heads that they too can be infected.  I began to speak out on HIV and my personal journey at engagements, seminars, universities, high schools, and prides.

I also came out with an HIV-themed children’s book called, “I Have A Secret”.  I love children and my husband and I hope to adopt one day.  Children that are HIV-negative need to know that children who are HIV positive want the same things as they do - namely, love and affection.  I also finished up my Associates in Communications and my Bachelor’s in Political Science.  I will be started my Master’s in Public Health in a couple weeks as well.  I also recently started writing an advice column called, “Just*in Time” for A&U Magazine America’s AIDS Magazine.  

As you can see, I DO NOT let HIV have the upper hand over me. 

Presently, I am married to my husband Dr. Philip B.Terry-Smith and all my family and friends know about my status. They have given me the love and strength to help me through this journey. This journal is to tell people that being HIV+ is not a piece of cake. People need to know what they might have to endure if they decide to put themselves at risk. HIV is neither glamorous nor a rite of passage.  In the words of Pedro Zamora, 'I'm not dying. I'm living with it'

Justin B. Terry-Smith

Creator of Justin’s HIV Journal

Author of I Have A Secret

http://www.justinbsmith.com

You can also find Justin on on twitter at @JustinBSmith79

Justin's HIV Journal: Rape & Domestic Violence Under DADT (Don't Ask, Do...

I was an U.S. Air Force veteran from 1999 to 2003. I love serving my country and serving the people of this country. Even there are a lot of people that do not support war I’ve always thought that the supports of the troops that are fighting in the war are what and who’s important. But what war are we fighting? And are we actually in it together? The only time I felt that the military was truly united was when the, “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Policy” ended.

In the military I had my ups and downs. The ups were I had great friends and I was accepted by a lot of people on base. Even though they knew that I was gay, a lot of my co-workers didn’t care. All that many of them cared about was that I did my job. That is all I cared about, all I wanted to do was to serve my country the best way I knew how, until one night that all changed…

One night in the summer of 2002 I was at the club off Florida Ave in NW DC called the 501 Club, which is no longer open. It was a great night of dancing, and hanging out with friends, but little did I know someone was watching me. I left the club a little earlier because I was way too tired to stay until the club closed. When I got to my car I hear a voice yell out at me, “Justin, hey yo Justin wussup man?” I looked up and it was my friend, Brown Sugar. I should’ve known he was bad news because Brown Sugar could stand for B.S. After some idle conversation Sugar suggested that we got to IHOP for a bite to eat. I eventually told him that I would love to eat because I was always hungry after the club. Sugar didn’t drive so I had to drive us there. He told me that he needed to get money from his house. I should’ve known there was something wrong but I was so naïve at that time in my life, I didn’t pick up on any kind of red flags. On the way to his house which he was directing me to, we had a good conversation he was the nicest guy. When we got to, “his place” I noticed that a lot of the roughhouses were dark and it didn’t look inhabited.

Sugar asked, “Justin why don’t you get out the car and come upstairs with me?” “I think I will stay in the car”. Then I looked at his eyes and I noticed something didn’t seem right, something was off about him and the way he looked at me. Instead of the light I once saw in his eyes I saw a shallow darkness. Sugar immediately grabbed the keys out of the car’s ignition. “Kiss me” he said. “I don’t want to, give me back my keys.” He persisted and said, “Come on baby, now you know I’ve been watching you for years. I’ve wanted you since I’ve laid eyes on you”. I said, “Listen I just wanted to eat so lets just go and eat and I can drop you home”. All of a sudden I heard a click, and looked down. He had pulled out a six inch knife on me. I was stunned and in shock. He then started to yell, “Now this is the last time I’m going to ask you, give me a kiss or I’m going to stab you”. I refused again and he punched me in the face, I was a little dizzy, he began to yell again but this time and held the knife to my neck. “Now pull down your fucking pants”. I actually tried to open the driver’s side door but he pull me back and began to hit me again and again. He hit me so hard that I black out for a bit. He put me on my stomach in the car seat pulled down my pants and proceeded to rape me. I felt empty inside as it was happening as if I had to numb myself to get away from the hurt I was feeling physically but most of all mentally.

After Sugar was done with me he told me to get out of the car. I refused. The I saw a bright light and the car next to us caught on fire. For no reason I couldn’t explain why it id. He yelled louder for me to get out. I knew in my head if I got out of the car he would steal it and then I would be stranded in Southeast DC. The part of Southeast that I was in was the ghetto and I would be alone. He still had the keys and got out the car he raced over to my side of the car and attempted to open the car door, when he put the key in the car door I knew that my chance to escape. I pushed the door open so hard and fast it hit his leg and he lost his balance and fell to the ground. I got out of the car and wrestled him for the keys, he bit me on my hand and I kicked him in the balls. He fell to the ground and I ran. I screamed and yelled for help but at that hour in that part of DC nobody seemed like they wanted to help. I saw some houses with lights on about a block away, so I ran to the occupied houses seeking help. I knocked and knocked on door asking yelling for help. Then I heard very loud footsteps coming my way, they were running, Then I heard Sugar yelled, “Get him he is right there”. I then stopped knocking on the houses and ran up the street. As I looked back I could see someone running after me with a knife. I was lucky to be quicker and smaller than he was. Sugar’s accomplice was a little overweight and he couldn’t keep up with me. I out ran him and ran and ran and ran. I ran for a long time across a community baseball field to a metro stop. There was a bus starting its early morning route. I stopped him and told the bus driver what had happened to me. He took me to the nearest police station. When I got there I felt like I was being interrogated even when I was the victim. After hours of questioning they said they had found a car like the one that caught on fire and my car that was sitting right next to the burnt car was still intact. They took me to my car to identify it and then took me to Howard University Hospital to see a Rape Nurse. I was cotton swabbed everywhere. They tested me for everything including HIV. After the whole ordeal I had finally driven myself home to Dover Air Force Base.

While I was in the Air Force I started dating a Marine named Anderson. We met in a very cute way. I was working at the Military Post Office and Anderson came in to send a package to Germany. I sat there and flirted with him and then he asked me out. I was so happy because a lot of my friends on base thought that Anderson was so handsome and hot. Anderson was 5’10, clean cut, muscular, almond doe-eyed milk chocolate skinned man. He was so hot just about all the females on base wanted him and of course a lot of us brothers too. So Anderson and I went out to dinner and then took a walk on the boardwalk in Rehoboth beach Delaware. When he dropped me home I saw there were flowers at my door. I looked at the flowers with embarrassment. I looked at him and said, “I’m so sorry I have no idea who sent these flowers to me”. “It is okay baby, look at the card”. I looked and it said, “Thank you to a wonderful date that I have been looking forward to and many more – Anderson” I blushed and he asked me out on another date. I gladly accepted. After that we went on many more dates. But I noticed a change in him. He would call me stupid sometimes and tell me to shut up. He started isolating me from my friends and my family. He would monitor me wherever I would go. Calling me at odd hours of the night and e-mailing me to make sure I was a work. The scary part was I wasn’t safe on base or anywhere else. Since he was military too he could follow me anywhere I went, and did. When he first hit me he then cried and promised it wouldn’t happen again and I believed him. He actually said one time while he hit me, “I do this because I love you”. He said a lot of things when before or after he hurt me that resonated with me. But the only thing is that I couldn’t ask for help. I couldn’t ask anyone in my chain of command. They would have thrown me out dishonorably for sure. I didn’t know what do to. The last and final altercation we got into I decided to fight back. I told him I would be in at around 2AM because my friend Chris and I were going out in Rehoboth Beach. After the club Chris’ car was parked at my house, he was tired and was drinking so I drove him straight home, then I drove myself home. The time was about 2:15AM when I got home. I walked into my apt and then the lights came on by themselves. It scared me I turned and there Anderson stood looking mad as hell. “Where were you?”, he stated. I was shocked. “How did you get into my apt?” I asked. Before I knew it he had punch me in the face, “He said answer my question and what is that little bitch Chris’ car doing in your driveway?” We fought but I was not match for him. He beat me that night for getting in 15 minutes later than I said I was going to get in. The next morning I woke up and got us coffee in the morning. I was in the kitchen, when it dawned on me that there is nobody that can help me but me right now. I ran to the kitchen and got an old frying pan and woke him up. I told him to leave my apt. he refused and after counting to three I hit him with the frying pan. He got up and picked up his clothes. We fought again but this time we actually went through the glass front door of the apt. We both were bloody but he ran to his car. A week later I started getting notes on my car stating, “I like when you wake up in the morning. I like when you rush to get in your car - Anderson” with the note there was a picture of me getting ready for work and getting in my car. I couldn’t believe it Anderson was watching me all the time and he wanted me to know it. I then left him a note on my car stating, “If I catch you anywhere near me, my property, family or friends, I’m going to take my new M9 and put a hole in your head”. After that he left me alone. Years later I saw him at a club in Baltimore. He saw me and he avoided me like the plague.

I felt alone even though I had many friends I couldn’t tell them about this. I couldn’t even tell my superior about it. Why? Because of the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Policy”. If I would’ve told my Commanding Officer about this I would’ve questioned on why I was at that particular club. Who was I there with? Who else do I know who goes to that club? They would’ve made me feel like I was the victim. For the military in this case, it’s about how you got in the predicament you’re in. The military’s old policy on homosexually hurt a lot of people. I just hope that the scares of others will heal with time.

Here is my interview with The Guys At brunch