Grace in the Shadows

All I wanted was to be loved,

to trust without fear, without doubt—

to give my heart, my body, my soul,

never knowing the weight love could carry.

Blinded, I stepped forward in faith,

ready to create life, to embrace my dreams—

only to be stopped, shaken, redefined

by a truth I never saw coming.

HIV. Three letters, yet a mountain of weight,

a tide of shame, sadness, and silence.

Medical hands reach out to steady me,

but the echoes of stigma keep me caged.

I feel alone.

I whisper, It’s going to be okay,

but my reflection does not believe it.

I tell myself, this is not who I am—only a part of me.

Then in the night, He speaks—

soft yet certain, unshaken by my fear.

I still touch you. I still love you.

But I wake, drowning in doubt.

Have I failed myself?

Did I trust too freely, love too recklessly?

I search for grace in the cracks of my heart—

to forgive the one who gave this to me,

to forgive myself for not seeing the unseen.

Yet grace is not only for me.

Maybe they knew, maybe they didn’t.

Maybe they, too, carried this burden with no arms to hold them.

Compassion calls me to understand:

this could be anyone’s story, anyone’s truth.

And so I choose to walk forward,

to soften my anger with grace,

to embrace myself when the world will not.

One day, I will stand in the light,

unashamed, unwavering, whole.

One day, my voice will rise—not in fear,

but in power, in truth, in love.

For now, I ask only for kindness.

For words that lift, not wound.

For the warmth of understanding,

until I can fully embrace myself again.

Please be kind.

Have you tested?