In this story: HIV / Mental health /

"There are so many lives lost, we can't forget the ones who went before us."

“I started working with Terrence Higgins Trust 11 years ago as a volunteer. It was a time when things were emotionally and mentally changing for me since my positive HIV diagnosis in 1987. I have jumped into different projects with the charity over the years, I am very passionate about welfare rights, and supporting my peers battle stigma. Working within the service I see people who have hit a brick wall and are often at their lowest point, but over time, they start to thrive. Everyone that comes to our service are going through exactly what we went through, so I ask them to trust me and reassure them that they will get through this.

I came from a staunch Catholic background and battled with my sexuality. On a night out I met and kissed a guy, and I knew then that this was right for me. Shortly after this I met a wonderful, caring, and loving man. In 1987 I started feeling unwell and was admitted to hospital. I started to go through the testing process and was asked to invite the only man I had slept with to also get tested. He was diagnosed first and struggled with the guilt. I had to go for more tests and was diagnosed shortly after, being told very bluntly that I only had five years to live.

I was introduced to an amazing social worker who sat with me and chatted to me but all I could think about was that I hadn’t started my life yet and I was going to die. I thought I wouldn’t be able to work, to go on holiday, buy my own house or own a car. Thinking of my mum and knowing she loved me, gave me the strength to believe that I was going to beat this. That has been my attitude through life.

My mum was a single parent and brought me and my five older siblings up on her own. I was especially close to my oldest sister who helped to raise me as my mum was working a number of different jobs. Sadly, this relationship broke down as she struggled to accept I was gay, this had a huge impact on me, and still does to this day. For 18 years I told no one about my HIV status. No one.

One day, I got bad heartburn and ended up in hospital. I had a mole on my leg and a mark on my eyelid. I was diagnosed with Karposi’s Sarcoma, cancer that was common in people with HIV. I was also diagnosed with Karposi’s Sarcoma of the esophagus and ultimately the chemotherapy treatment was affecting my body. I thought I was going to die. So I decided that I couldn’t keep it from my Mum anymore so told her everything. She held my hand and told me we would get through it together. She was the strength I needed.

After 18 years, I reached out and met someone else living with HIV and he became a great friend and mentor. We started our own support group but sadly one by one my friends died, I watched young lives lost and death was such a huge part of my journey, my social life was going to funerals.

HIV took my youth away and the person I was once was, I became a different person, but it gave me strength and determination. I want my existence to be known. I know my family are proud of what I have achieved but I want them to be proud of who I am and what I have been through.

I have faith and belief that things are better and will continue to get better albeit it will take more time. But we must never forget that millions of lives have gone. There are so many lives lost, we can’t forget the ones who went before us. They are the reason I am telling my story now, it’s for them.”


Martin’s story is part of the H is for Human series, in collaboration with the Terrence Higgins Trust, sharing stories of strength, courage and hope from four decades of HIV in Scotland.

For more information on Terrence Higgins Trust and to learn about the work they do, follow this link.

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