Hi everyone
I just discovered this forum today, and I was going to start my own question/discussion thread, but after spending the last half hour reading all the posts in this thread, this seems like the perfect place to get the answers I hope to get.
I am quite moved after reading all of the heartfelt stories and comments, and I must say it has been a real eye-opener for me and has triggered a lot of self-reflection on my own personal misperceptions about herpes, the people who have it, and the people who love them. Since I just discovered this board and read the posts very quickly, I will have to ask your forgiveness if I don't recall the names of anyone whose comments I might reference, as I have limited time to go back and check the accuracy/source of any referenced remarks.
Your candid and moving discussions mean a *lot* to me - NOT because I have herpes, but because I *don't* have it and now finding myself standing on the other side of the dreaded fence that so many of you have found yourself standing up against - having been just informed last night by a blossoming love interest about the herpes thing. I feel like I'm standing in a pile of quicksand and the only way out is through a minefield - no right or wrong answers - but every step I take in either direction could have dire consequences.
I hope I don't raise any judgmental eyebrows in describing my situation, but it seems pointless to try and present only the part of the situation that would not upset the faint of heart. In any case, I am currently involved in an intimate long distance relationship with a happily married couple who happen to live in the place where I have been planning for the last two years to relocate. I have harbored a dream for over 20 years of one day being part of a polyamorous relationship, and now it seems that dream is coming true and I am happily contemplating the upcoming move this summer.
I found it interesting to read so many comments from people on this board who view themselves as "damaged goods." Even in the absence of STD's, I have had that same view of myself as a result of my entire childhood being cloaked in the daily trauma of severe verbal, physical and sexual abuse. My ex-husband whom I married at 17 helped to reinforce that perception because he felt *he* had been somehow injured by the fact that I was "all used up" by the time he got there. After a brief period of promiscuity, I totally bowed out of the social scene and did the celibacy thing for 13 years, followed by another brief attempt at a relationship which ended disastrously, and now I've been celibate again for another 3 years.
One of the things that intrigued me about this couple, and what got us started talking in the first place is their professional work as counselors and one of their specialties is sexual healing. They have done wonders for me already via hundreds of hours of phone calls in terms of how I view myself and my body and my sexual identity. In the process, we seem to have connected on all levels of human emotion and senses. We revealed in the very early days of the conversation that none of us has AIDS, and I'm sure I stated my usual spiel that I have no known STD's, but obviously I overlooked their response or non-response to that statement.
So last night in the midst of a long and enjoyable phone call, the woman revealed to me that she contracted genital herpes 5 years ago and that her husband contracted it 25 years ago. She says he takes a daily dose of acyclovir and has not had an outbreak since his initial infection, and she says she takes it (or something similar, I think) only when the symptoms start to show up and has controlled it that way. She also seems to feel quite comfortable about their ability to control it, and she stated that her research has shown that 90 percent of the population has it but most don't even know it, and that it is not diagnosable unless you have active lesions.
Today I have done some research on it (which led me to this site) which seems to indicate that it is diagnosable with a blood test, so her theory about that seems to be incorrect. And the 90 percent figure seems to pertain to the HSV-1 virus, not the HSV-2 type.
When she first told me, I went on a major emotional roller coaster ride. In addition to having to wrestle with all my fears and all I know and *don't* know or understand about the virus, I also had to wrestle - unexpectedly - with the casual attitude in which she informed me. Instantly, my mind started this warring debate in my head about the "right" and "wrong" way (and when) to tell someone about that. Like there *is* any such answer.
At first, I was put off by the casual demeanor in which she mentioned it, knowing the dynamics of our relationship and what that would mean to me. But then I asked myself, how would I have *preferred* that she tell me? And what if it were me having to do the telling? Would I have handled it better if she had written me some downtrodden letter with dramatic overtones of "if you never write to me again after knowing this, I'll understand ... Love XXX."? Would things have been different if she had told me the first time we talked so I could allow all of my socially stigmatized beliefs to kick in, which would have surely resulted in me keeping my emotional distance from them ... would that have been better, *not* to have experienced all the wondrous emotions I have gone through when I didn't know that? Someone (maybe the original person who posted in this thread) mentioned how she was concerned about *her* responsibility to her boyfriend, even if he chose to stay with her, in not allowing him to risk his sexual health by being with her. I wonder if I was somehow offended on a subconscious level that my friend's casual attitude - *knowing* that we plan to be sexually intimate one day in all the various manifestations that a triad presents - maybe I thought she was being careless with *my* body in treating their herpes more like a minor annoyance than a major ordeal.
Then after we hung up, I reflected on my own feelings and blissfully ignorant comfort level regarding herpes. I have had many platonic friends who have suffered from it and felt great compassion for them and never felt uncomfortable around them. I didn't go around in a state of paranoia cleaning toilets, sterilizing everything they touched, or other such phobic behavior. Still, I didn't want to get it myself and thought it would be a fate worse than death. But was I careful? Nope. Not back then in the b.s.s. (before safe sex) 70's. "Safe sex" to me back then meant asking the person if they had anything, turning on the lights and looking them over pretty good to make sure they had no visible sores. If they looked okay and said they were disease free, that felt "safe." The angels surely must have been watching over me and my naive body and mind.
And now I think of all the people I have talked to more recently about sexual issues, and how easy it is to fall into the same belief and comfort zone patterns just through casual conversations. I automatically assume and want to believe that anyone who says they're very selective about their partners and don't have any disease and don't want to get anything - or are concerned about getting stuff - that they must be "safe" and disease-free or they wouldn't be so concerned. This belief is especially reinforced if they tell me they declined to have sex with someone after finding out they had a disease.
So that means that in my mind I climb into this comfort zone with this person and feel totally safe with them when in fact they could have every disease in the book and just be a very good actor - or in denial themselves. And as more than one person so wisely pointed out in previous posts, the absence of disease does not guarantee the person will be a good mate on all other counts. I have had my heart terribly broken by more than one disease free man. In fact, all 3 major relationships in my life ended in a terribly hurtful way that took years to get over, and the only disease they had was in their capacity for love and honesty.
So now, here, I have a chance to be with two people who I have come to love deeply on so many levels, and I have been looking forward to a very exciting life with them. And now I have to wrestle with how I'm going to process this new information, and what it means to me and to our relationship. I think I have identified the biggest demon that must be dealt with in my mind - it's not so much the fact that *they* have it or even that I might get it that scares me. I think even if I did get it, if our relationship lasted forever, and it didn't cause any major interference with our lives except for occasional outbreaks, I could probably live with that. But instead, my biggest fear is, what if I do get it from them, and then we break up, and then I have to go out into the mainstream of society and find a new mate(s) ... but this time I will be billed as "damaged goods" and will have to deal with the rejection and social stigma as I am facing it right now on the opposite end.
So I suppose the answers I'm hoping to find are assurances that it's possible to live with someone who knowingly has the virus and still not get it - but somehow still have an active and enjoyable sex life. But in the absence of that assurance, I'm hoping to find some way to make sense of the rest of the feelings ... how to deal with loving someone who has a health problem that is incurable - and contagious - and could end up being *my* health problem too - and one which happens to be feared and looked down up by society as something to be feared and dreaded. And at the same time, knowing that in the scheme of things, with all the other things they have to offer me in the way of joy and happiness, it's really very small. And I could just as easily let them slip through the cracks and the next love of my life could bring me more misery than the last 3 disasters combined - without the risk of disease. I have spent a lifetime trying to find peace and learn to love myself and be comfortable in a body that I already felt was damaged. I know that sense of being damaged is all in my head. But if there were something physical to add to it which truly did create an image of me being defective in the eyes of others, I don't know how I could live with that.
I'm also wrestling with the fear of telling them about my fears. Just as the people in this discussion have dreaded telling their loved ones the bad news, I dread telling the people I love just how scared I am and how much of a bomb this feels like because I *don't* want them to feel like damaged goods or to worry that the relationship is now tainted with this black cloud. I am afraid that if they know how scared I am, they might back off themselves, thinking they are making it easier on me and saving me the emotional trauma of doing so, and then I could still lose them in the end. I don't want that to happen. But I don't want to live in fear either. All my life I have been afraid of being touched because of my sexual history. What an irony that I'm now afraid of being touched by the very people who have managed to help me recover from those fears and want to experience life as it was meant to be.
Sorry for the length of this ... brevity is not among my character traits! I would appreciate any feedback from anyone on exactly what the risks are healthwise to me and how I might go about dealing with the emotions and fears that I'm now wrestling with. I have been very enriched after reading so many of your wonderful stories and seeing what people go through who live with this on a daily basis. I applaud you for your courage and your successes and achievements. I hope I can find a way to stamp out my own fears after learning so much about how the other side lives and that there is, indeed, life ... and love ... after herpes. My hat's off to all of you ... and my heart goes out to you.
Respectfully,
Arianna Lei