I didn't set out to be an HIV advocate when I began to report on the epidemic while I was working on a master's degree in journalism at Northwestern University in 1986. In fact I still see myself foremost as an author and journalist.

Like so many gay men my age (born 1958), HIV killed virtually my entire circle of close friends and devastated my community in the 1980s and early 1990s, before effective treatment became available beginning in 1996.

I realized during those dark years that it wouldn't be enough simply to write about HIV. I needed to advocate and educate, too, so I could share what I saw and heard as a reporter with others who could benefit from it.

My 2005 HIV diagnosis ratcheted up my advocacy because now HIV wasn't only something that happened to others. It became part of my own story in an even more personal, powerful way than when I was simply telling other people's stories.

I had to learn how to frame my story in a way that supported my health and well-being. As a professional writer, I already knew the power of words and language in telling a story one way or another. That's why I chose to tell my own story in a way that supports the resilience I need to face my medical challenges and whatever else life brings my way.

I enjoy every opportunity I have to share my story with men and women who can find in my experience and insights the inspiration and practical tools they need to tell their own stories as heroic epics, not tales of woe.