HIV and AIDS - My Story of Survival

Evan Michael McIntyre
Mar 14
7 min read

Blog Post Title: I Survived a Plague: My Story, My Truth

Dedicated to all the survivors out there

By Evan

In 1989, when I was just 19, my life changed forever. I was with an older boy, drunk and vulnerable. I didn’t want to have full-on sex. I said no—three times. But he overpowered me. He introduced me to poppers, and I briefly lost consciousness. It was against my will. Afterwards, I used his bathroom and noticed I was bleeding. I was overcome with fear and realized something terrible had just happened. In the back of my head, I knew I had just gotten HIV. I prayed and asked God for help and forgiveness. These are the times when we finally pray. I blamed myself for years, thinking I was weak. A pushover. It took 20 years and the words of a compassionate therapist for me to finally understand: I was raped.

Recently, a kind professor I trusted with this story told me, "It was not your fault, Evan." Somehow, though, I still wrestle with shame. "Why was I such a pushover? Why wasn't I strong enough to stop him?" This experience haunted me and nearly destroyed me.

At the time, I had a girlfriend. I didn’t identify as gay—maybe I was just unsure. But in the 1980s Idaho, if you had HIV, people didn’t ask questions. They assumed you were gay and that it was somehow your fault. I was diagnosed with HIV shortly after, and thank God, my girlfriend tested negative. I broke up with her so she could live a full, healthy life.

Three months passed before I told my family. My mom noticed I had stopped smiling, joking, and laughing. When I finally told my parents, my mother broke down sobbing. My father, shocked and scared, asked about my T-cell count. It was low. Back then, HIV was a death sentence. And when I was diagnosed with full-blown AIDS in the mid-90s, I truly thought my time was up.

But I kept going. I stayed behind the DJ booth at clubs and radio stations, immersing myself in music and the creative process. That might have saved me. So many others gave up, believing death was inevitable. That’s the real reason so many died. Many gave up. Some died of broken hearts and despair, rejected and shunned by family and society, especially fanatical religious zealots. I remember they even burned down Ryan White's home—a child who got AIDS from a blood transfusion.

But I chose to fight. I chose life.

In 1996, my T-cell count was below 100. I had full-blown AIDS. But everything changed. My sister called me with incredible news: a new drug was showing promise. I got on an early trial, thanks to a good doctor. For the first time, I had hope. I had a future.

Today, my viral load is undetectable—a reality many people unfamiliar with HIV still don’t realize is possible. In fact, I haven’t had any detectable virus in my body since the late ’90s. This is the reason AIDS cases are declining.

Most people living with HIV who take their meds consistently reach undetectable levels and cannot transmit the virus.

After I was diagnosed, I only engaged in oral sex to keep others safe. I always disclosed my HIV status to anyone I wanted to be intimate with. Many people became afraid. Some literally ran away when I told them. My heart was broken more times than I can count. One girl said her brother had died of AIDS, and she couldn’t stay with me because it would hurt her mother. Another told me he had to be selfish and leave.

But one day, I told a girl I was dating, and she said, "Evan, that’s what condoms are for!" She was the coolest, most compassionate woman I had ever met. We had safe sex. She used a female condom, and I had no viral load, so it was perfectly safe. I cried. Her kindness and education blew me away.

Back in the '90s, many advocates believed we shouldn’t be forced to disclose our status, because everyone is responsible for protecting themselves. There were known cases of people who lied, and also horrifying individuals called "gift givers" who allegedly infected others on purpose.

But here’s the legal truth: It is against the law to disclose someone else’s HIV status. You cannot warn others to "stay away" from someone with HIV. Doing so violates multiple state and federal laws, including:

HIPAA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act)
State Privacy Laws
CDC and DOJ Anti-Discrimination Guidelines
Defamation and Emotional Distress Protections

The only person who can disclose their HIV status is the person. If you share that private health info with others, you could face:

Lawsuits for medical privacy violations
Defamation and slander charges
Damages for loss of income, reputation, and relationships
Illegal Quarantine

To ruin someone’s life because of stigma, ignorance, or fear is not only illegal—in my opinion, it is a grave sin before God. You are not the public's protector. You are not the judge. My friends and family know I wouldn’t hurt a fly. But if you ruin my reputation, I will take legal action.

I trust no one now. I always protect myself. Because in this world, people lie. The man who gave me HIV—I believe he knew. But I never pressed charges. I believed it was my fault.

I no longer have sex. I’m older now. Tired of being hurt. I love solitude. I make music. I cuddle. I think sex is overrated. My favorite thing is making out. Mutual masturbation is fun. That’s what I recommend. Oral sex is also extremely safe—there are no documented cases of HIV being transmitted through it.

I’ve lived more than 35 years beyond what I once thought was possible. AIDS didn’t defeat me. I survived. I healed. And now, I live with purpose.

There’s still stigma. Still discrimination. I’ve faced it all. And with today’s political climate—where LGBTQ+ communities, especially our trans siblings, are under attack—it’s more important than ever to speak up.

Coming out about my HIV status is my act of defiance. My act of pride. I’ve never liked labels—gay, straight, whatever. As Joan Jett once said, “No labels.”

A friend once told me she “hates the sin but loves the sinner.” I smiled quietly, thinking, “That sounds more like judgment than love.” She calls herself a Christian, but forgets what Jesus actually stood for. He didn’t cast stones. He said, “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”

We’re all imperfect. No one is better than you. No one is less.

For years, I thought I was to blame. But now I know: surviving trauma is not weakness. It’s a strength. It’s courage. And I made it through, not alone, but with the love of friends, family, and two wonderful parents.

One night after my diagnosis, I looked up at the stars in the Idaho sky. They were so bright, so endless. And I felt God speak to me: “Hold on. A cure is coming. Don’t give up.” And I didn’t.

We all have difficult lives. Everyone faces hardship. All of us carry pain. But maybe my story helps you. Maybe you were meant to read this.

My family’s motto is Per Ardua — "Through Difficulty." Through difficulty, I’ve found strength, grace, and purpose.

If you’re struggling, know this: You are not broken. You are not damaged goods. You are a survivor.

Your past mistakes don’t define you. They are lessons, not life sentences.

Even a smile from a stranger once saved me from suicide. That’s how powerful love is. As Gandhi said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

Choose love. Choose peace. Join the quiet revolution of compassion.

Taking care of myself is a full-time job, but if I can bring light to someone’s day—if I can make one person feel seen or hopeful—that’s worth more than gold.

An Uber driver once told me, “God loves you. You’re going to be alright. You’re going to heaven, Evan.” It was the best, most loving short sermon I’d ever heard.

I was supposed to die in the '80s. But here I am. Every day is a bonus. Year after year, with no detectable virus, I truly believe I’m cured. And yes, I’m still dancing.

Peace and love,

DJ Evan

I am alive and thriving. Thank you Jesus and my guardian angel...mom.

Thank you Lewis Madanick for my "Bravery" shirt - made in the Ukraine

Live long and prosper my friend. You are a survivor.

“There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.”— Samwise Gamgee to Frodo, The Lord of the Rings

❤️ Love conquers all.

“For every dark night, there’s a brighter day.”— Tupac Shakur

“Courage is not the absence of despair, but the capacity to move forward in spite of it.”— Rollo May

John 14:27 – “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

🧭 Resources & Support

🌐 HIV.gov — Trusted resources for HIV and AIDS information
🏳️‍🌈 RMNetwork.org — Inclusive, LGBT-affirming churches across states and countries
⚖️ Report LGBTQ+/HIV Discrimination – ACLU
🛡️ Lambda Legal — Advocating for the civil rights of LGBTQ+ people and those living with HIV

💛 Need Someone to Talk To?

🆘 Samaritans Hope — 24/7 emotional support for those in distress📞 Call or text 988 anytime for free, confidential help.If you're feeling overwhelmed, suicidal, or simply need to talk — trained volunteers are here to listen, without judgment.