"The fear was worse than the truth," says a man living with HIV. His story is a reminder of why we mark World AIDS Day every year
World AIDS Day, commemorated annually on 1 December, remains, more than three decades after its inception, a key moment for global and local reflection on where we stand in the fight against HIV. The day, which was first declared in 1988 and has been under the umbrella of the UNAIDS programme since the mid-1990s, serves as a space to raise awareness, destigmatize and support people living with HIV, as well as to remember those who have died from AIDS.
The Czech Republic is experiencing a slight increase in new cases. Last year, 269 people were newly diagnosed, an increase of 6.3 per cent year-on-year. At the same time, the proportion of foreign permanent residents, who accounted for more than half of the newly infected in the past two years, fell - last year's 41.6 percent is the lowest level in five years. And the group of people infected through heterosexual contact continues to grow; they now account for nearly a third of all new diagnoses.
But it's the human stories behind these numbers that make the difference. One of them is David, who has been living with HIV for two years, has an undetectable viral load thanks to treatment, and functions without limitations in his daily life. His experience - full of uncertainties, but also of newfound confidence and control - brings home what statistics can never fully capture.
A night that began like any other
David revisits the evening that changed his life with distance, but without trying to dramatize anything. "It wasn't a crazy party. Just a Friday when I felt like switching off after work," he says. He and a bunch of friends headed to a bar in the centre of Brno - a place where students, the queer community, tourists and people who just want to put their everyday worries aside for a while mingle.
At the bar, he struck up a conversation with a man he had never seen before. "He was open, funny, not the type to come across as suspicious. Just the kind of guy you're naturally drawn to." Soon they were flirting. A few drinks, a few smiles, shoulder touching. "It was spontaneous, natural. That's all I thought about at the time."
When the bar closed, they just walked out together. "It was spontaneous, we didn't make a big deal about it. We liked each other, we sat down, and at that moment I didn't think about the consequences," David says. He doesn't hide the issue of unprotected sex either. "Today I know it was a mistake. I got carried away at the time. If I said I didn't regret it, I'd be lying."
The phone call no one wants to get
Less than two months later, his phone rang during the afternoon shift. The name of the man he shared the night with appeared on the screen. "At first I thought he wanted to go out again. But I could tell by the way he took a breath that he was sick."
The call was barely a few sentences long. The man told him he had been tested and came out positive for HIV. And that David should get tested as soon as possible. "He was completely shaken up. I felt like he was saying that for the first time in his life and he was afraid of what I was going to say."
David describes that at that moment, the world momentarily went into a haze. "It was like someone had turned off your sound but left the picture on. I got up, went to the toilets and just stared in the mirror. There was one thing running through my head: What if I caught it too?"
A diagnosis that changes perspective
He went for tests the next day. "The wait for the result was worse than the truth itself," he says. When the doctor told him the test was positive, he was empty-headed. "I don't remember the first ten minutes. I just heard words like 'treatment', 'antiretrovirals', 'undetectable', but at that point it was just foreign terminology to me."
The first two weeks after diagnosis were the hardest. "I was angry. At myself, at the world, at him... at everyone, really. I was debating whether to tell anyone or if I could just carry it inside me." He eventually revealed the situation to two close friends. "They were amazing. One of them told me, ' HIV is not your calling card, it's just medical information. And it doesn't define you.' That was the sentence that brought me back to reality a little bit."
The first meeting with the medical team was also key. "They explained to me that today's treatment is highly effective, that in a few months I would have an undetectable charge and that it completely changes the quality of my life. That was the first time I felt relief."
Two years of living with HIV: new boundaries, new certainties
Today, David has had an undetectable viral load for over a year and a half. "When they first told me, I cried. But not from fear, more from relief. I felt I was regaining control of my own life."
His daily routine hasn't changed dramatically. He works in IT, plays sports, dates. "By having an undetectable charge, I'm not infectious. That's the thing people often don't understand - they still think HIV equals death. But it hasn't been that way for a long time."
What has changed, however, is his relationship to intimate situations. "I'm more careful. Not paranoid, but more responsible. I talk more, I ask more, I inform more. And when I tell someone my status, it's only when I know it's safe and I can trust that person."
Openness as a way out of fear
David admits that the biggest obstacle was not the diagnosis, but the stigma. "I was afraid that people would look at me differently. That I would be seen as irresponsible or 'risky'. I hate that word."
But talking about it helped him. "If you say it out loud to a person you trust, suddenly it's not a bogeyman. It's part of your story. And that's okay."
Today, he says that if he could send a message to people who are hesitant about the test, it would be simple: "Fear won't help you. The result will - whatever it is. And if it's positive, your world won't come crashing down. It will just change. And you can live a perfectly normal life in it."
David's story is thus a reminder that HIV in 2025 is not synonymous with the end, but rather a moment that teaches people more about themselves than they expected. And also that behind the statistics are real people - with fears, guilt and newfound strength.
Although modern treatments can reduce the viral load to undetectable levels in most people and allow them to live full lives, HIV remains an incurable disease. The best prevention remains condom use and, for those at higher risk of infection, pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), which significantly reduces the risk of transmission.
