My house is GLASS, glass

Through using my voice:

I met one girl who contracted the virus from her mother at birth and didn’t “know” anyone else with it until we got linked (let’s just be honest, we probably all know someone other than me but they ain’t said nothing). We talk almost daily now. Note: ❤️❤️ sending her positive vibes because as we speak her new medicine regimen is kicking her ass.

I gave a presentation one time and a young woman approached me afterwards in tears, confiding she had a diagnosis that she was too ashamed to share with anyone until then. Well you know what?!! We were able to locate some agencies in her area so she could finally seek help.

I met someone whose dad died from HIV-related complications but they didn’t know until after he was dead. For real man. How could this have made that man feel? All those years of suffering and you couldn’t even be honest with your own family? <insert: I am beyond blessed. My family is the GOAT>

Why is this? Why don’t we say anything?

Because we are afraid to speak. We are protecting our privacy (and I get that). But when will we begin to not give two 💩’s what the next person says? 🙋🏾‍♀️ I will be the one. THAT way I can reach back (or forward, or next to me) and help somebody else.

We live life in this type of selfishness. But once again, cool if that’s how you cope. But yuh see me? I’m not afraid of a bloodclaat person! (reference: my dad)

Like how you have formed an opinion about me … I have formed one about you too! 😌 at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter, right?!?

Tip: Protect your own lane, while using condoms, refraining from throwing the stones because you probably live in a three story glass house. 💅🏾

#windexmeplease

What not to do: Turn your nose up at somebody with the stank face. Because, let’s just be honest, it’s probably your top lip you smelling.

+ Ci Ci +