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How Do I Tell Him I Have an STD?
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My heart was palpitating; my stomach, nauseous. Questions of morality raced around my mind on the daily. On the hour. On the minute.
How long will I deal with this feeling? How many times will I have to explain the situation?
I’ve asked friends about the ‘proper way’ to handle it. Usually, they aren’t sure themselves. Or they share their personal accounts of bravery, shying away from the stigma and statistics with a nonchalance that I sometimes wish I possessed. Or – the most common answer – they say “look inside”, where I’m bound to find my own answers.
I date an amazing guy, and we spend a lot of time kissing. But I need sexual boundaries while I work out the words to this looming conversation. The boundaries go something like this: no sex (and by sex, I mean no penis inside my vagina.)
Admittedly, I’m enjoying the rare experience of a relationship without sex. It’s been nice to share the intimacy of a kiss without the expectation of sex. But during those shared kisses, slowly and rhythmically his hand moves lower as he gently places his fingers between my legs. My body awakens, and I want him inside of me. My body yearns for it, and I feel my boundaries collapsing.
Inevitably, though, my ethics resurface: How do I handle this situation?
How do I tell him I have an STD?
One in a Million
I am one of the 20 million people in the U.S. that has Human Papillomavirus (HPV). A seemingly harmless (with the exception of the increased risk of cervical cancer and perhaps, several other types of cancer), mostly invisible virus.
My doctor tells me it’s “likely” nothing to worry about, that it’s a personal decision to share the information that I have HPV with a partner.
I hate the idea of exposing him to it without his consent. And yet, I fear his response because as far as I know, he has never been exposed to this before. And because I don’t want to remember how I felt when I discovered that I had it…feeling like I didn’t protect my body as I should have. That I failed myself. That I acted on lust and not love.
Sometimes I feel like there is a big black slash on my internal canvas.
True Colors
Various colors have marked my internal canvas throughout my life. I’ve been hindered by broken bones, strep throat, self-loathing, heartache. Yet I have found that things I have initially interpreted as a curse have often become a blessing in time. Both during and after pain and struggle, I’ve been supported, challenged, and liberated.
But it’s the black slash, HPV, that has forced an era of intense rumination.
I have always found it fascinating how easy it can be to sit with someone and listen to their stories without judgement, without fear. And then, on the contrary, how impossible it can feel to afford my own thoughts and stories the same ease.
But, I seek and want to feel free inside of myself. And, I know a big piece of that for me is acceptance. Accepting the shame that I have felt for sleeping with men to whom my intuition screamed “NOOOO!” Accepting that someone else may not accept the stories I have to share, that my truth may not sit well with their truth. Accepting that in the end, it does come back to love.
For me, HPV acts as a sifting system, weeding out those who do not love me and who never will. It also shows me who will respond to my vulnerabilities with the type of patience and kindness that is love.
And I’m starting to see how to approach the conversation with him.