Women

It’s nobody’s business what Black women or gay men living with HIV do in their bedrooms—and it’s not our fault if we get HIV.

"I want queer people to know that they have their own inalienable wealth of spiritual knowledge that is valuable, powerful, and always available to them."

Latinx people living in the United States continue to be misunderstood, underrepresented, marginalized, and stigmatized, putting them at risk for HIV acquisition as well as poor HIV outcomes after diagnosis.

Watching your partner have sex with someone else is often called “cuckolding” or “hotwifing.” But it’s not just for straight men. And, say experts, it’s perfectly healthy.

“Access to health care is a human right,” says Arianna Inurritegui-Lint, the founder of Arianna’s Center in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

“Because of my diagnosis and the struggle that I went through, coming to terms with it, I think it has made me a stronger person. I’ve actually accomplished things I never thought I would.”

As we remember the 39th anniversary of this landmark news story on the unfolding of the HIV pandemic, we must correct the record.

How Black queer people show up for each other in nontraditional ways should be a lesson for us all.

HIV affects many people of various sexual orientations and gender identities living under the LGBTQ+ umbrella—and the reasons behind the statistics explain a lot about why these groups are still so heavily affected by HIV in the U.S. today.

Already set back by COVID-19, primarily non-Black organizations are walking a line between allyship and appropriation.