First Blood (Uncut Version): Why I Had to Build Angels and Warriors
Let’s not waste time pretending. You’re not here for fluff. And I didn’t survive decades with HIV just to write a friendly newsletter and smile for a camera.
You want real? Here it is—bleeding, furious, and undeniably alive.
I Wasn’t Supposed to Be Here
Let me paint it plain: I was born into a world that didn’t want me to live. A heart surgery saved my life as a baby— but the blood transfusion that kept me alive? It was tainted. It gave me HIV before I could say my own name. But here’s where the story gets worse. I wasn’t diagnosed with AIDS until 16 years later.
Sixteen years. That’s not just a late diagnosis. That’s medical negligence. That’s a system that looked at a sick kid and didn’t see him.
Sixteen years of unexplained symptoms.
Sixteen years of pain with no name.
Sixteen years of people assuming I was just “too sensitive” or “a weak kid.”
No one thought to test for HIV. Why? Because I wasn’t “supposed” to have it. I didn’t fit the profile. I didn’t look like the brochure. By the time they caught it, I was drowning in it. AIDS had already taken root. And I had to learn how to survive with a diagnosis that came too damn late.
HIV Didn’t Kill Me—The Shame Almost Did
Let’s talk about shame.
Let’s talk about how it poisons more than blood ever could.
Hiding meds. Dodging dates. Wondering if your worth is measured by your viral load. It’s the weight of being "too risky to love." Of having to explain your existence over and over again. Of fearing what people will think when they Google you.
That’s why I built this.
Angels and Warriors wasn’t born from a campaign. It was born from rage. From years of being invisible— even in spaces that claim to care about HIV. Especially as a straight man. Especially when you don’t fit the narrative.
We’re Here for the Forgotten Ones
Let’s say it loud:
Heterosexual people get HIV. Couples stay together through it. You can be masculine and vulnerable. You can be in pain and still powerful.
This space is for the ones who felt they had nowhere else to go. Who sat in waiting rooms alone, sweating out test results. Who Googled "HIV and relationships" and only saw sanitized bullshit. Who cried in the shower and dried off before anyone saw.
I see you.
I am you.
Angels & Warriors Isn’t a Brand—It’s a Brotherhood (and Sisterhood)
We are:
The ones who lived when they said we wouldn’t.
The ones who still fight even when no one’s cheering.
The ones who carry both grief and grit in our bones.
You’ll see it all here— Unfiltered blog posts. Raw video diaries. Stories from people who’ve seen the edge and came back louder.
And you’ll meet the Animal Crew— a squad of fierce little stuffed animals we send to kids fighting hospital battles, just like I did.
These aren’t cutesy toys. These are battle buddies. Built to ride IV poles and watch over hospital beds. For the warriors too young to know what they’re up against, but brave enough to face it anyway.
You’ll find tools. Allies. Truth. Not because it’s marketable— Because it’s necessary.
I Don’t Want Your Pity. I Want Your Rage. I Want Your Voice.
You want to help?
Don’t whisper. Roar.
Share this site. Wear the merch. Post the real shit. Talk about HIV in your family, in your relationships, in your barbershops and bedrooms. The only way we kill the stigma is if we murder the silence.
This is my first post. But I’ve been writing this in my veins for 40 years.
Next up?
We go deeper: The first time I had to disclose my status to a woman I loved.
The ugly side of pain meds and HIV.
How to show up for someone living with HIV—when you have no idea what the hell to say.
If you're still here, you’re already part of the fight. And if you’re not afraid of the truth…
Welcome to Angels and Warriors.
Let’s burn the old narrative down.
—D-REK
#WeAreNotAWhisper #AngelsAndWarriors #HIVUncut