Shaine Wynsma was living in Grand Rapids, Mich., in the late 1990s, halfway through what would ultimately become a four-year relationship. Wynsma, who grew up in nearby North Muskegon, found out that his partner had, in reality, been involved in an open relationship.
"He had just forgot to let me know," Wynsma said. "At least that's what he told me when I confronted him about it."
So Wynsma knew, since they had stopped practicing safer sex, that he had to be tested, immediately—and he bought one of those at-home HIV-testing kits, which were popular at the time.
Wynsma sent in a blood sample and eventually called for the results from an empty back office of the service bay at a car dealership where he was working.
The woman said the results were positive.
Wynsma was speechless, alone, in a dusty, dimly lit office in the back of a garage at work, not able to tell anyone. "My survival instinct kicked in and I just asked, 'OK, what do I do next?'" said Wynsma, who wanted to have another test taken, just to confirm her report.
"She also said that I seemed pretty upbeat for someone who was just told they were HIV-positive. I told her that I have had some circumstances in my life that just left me shattered and I learned to just pick up the important pieces and build off of them," he said.
Wynsma immediately told his boyfriend and then went to a nearby clinic for another test of his blood.
The next two weeks were excruciating, he said.
The clinic confirmed that Wynsma was HIV-positive.
" [ My ] boyfriend never got tested and [ our ] sex life became non-existent [ at that point ] and he even told me to not tell anybody because it would make people think he had [ the disease, too ] ," Wynsma said. "That hurt and made me feel 100 times worse than finding out alone in that office. Like I was the one who was trash and worthless and did something wrong, when it was him [ who ] I was faithful to and clearly the one who infected me.
"I never told my family; they would not have known how to deal with it very well then. It was definitely the beginning of the end for that relationship with my boyfriend."
However, the two stayed together for two more years, which he now admits, "that [ still ] confounds me to this day."
Ultimately, after a major verbal blow-up between the two, Wynsma packed his car and left.
He moved the Chicago about 11 years ago.
Now 38, Wynsma lives in Wrigleyville and is self-employed as a personal trainer and his business is, appropriately named, Shaine Fitness.
He's healthy and happier than ever, but single, which does make him sad, he admits.
"I am healthier than I was [ when living in Michigan ] ," Wynsma said. "I didn't workout as much [ back then and my ] diet was pretty poor; I didn't invest a whole lot of thought into my own medical needs. It must be that survival instinct/competitive drive of mine.
"But, I decided I was not going to be one of the people they showed, shriveled and miserable and alone in a hospital room on the news. That image just did not fit. I have also learned to be more self-sufficient. When you are confronted with a drastic event and your own partner doesn't want to deal with you, you learn at an incredible pace how to take care of yourself. It's ironic that something that is supposed to end my life early has, in reality, caused me to become stronger, healthier and now I will probably live a better and longer life than I would have before.
"Dating, though, is kind of tough when you are HIV-positive. You meet a nice guy, you hit it off, there is some sort of connection, then you have 'the talk' and in my experience, it is a major deal breaker. When you are HIV-positive, you take a huge risk of being rejected. You could just decide to date others who are HIV-positive, but that dating pool is small and there is no guarantee that the right one is there. It seems just as hypocritical to reject someone because they are [ negative ] as it is for them to reject me because I am positive. I understand that people need to protect themselves, and they should, so I do not belittle anybody for taking that action.
"One can argue that it should be the first thing you talk about. But, on the other, my thought is, if sex is not going to happen, then it is none of their business. I have to protect myself as well and that includes emotionally. I had a friendship end because they felt they needed to be told. It has never been violent, though. [ But ] I have heard stories of people freaking out when they have been told, verbally abusing, shoving and then talking about behind their [ partner or ex-partner ] behind his back. Thankfully that has never happened to me."
Wynsma added: "I have done a lot of work to realize that being positive doesn't make me a bad person, or filthy, and at times I have been really insulted by some people's ignorance. It was just a lack of judgment at a young age. That has been the biggest impact, realizing how much work, even in the gay community, there is to erase the stigma of HIV."
Wynsma has been dedicated to helping find a cure for HIV/AIDS for years—very dedicated, in fact. He has participated in the annual Ride For AIDS the last four years—and his fifth time on the two-day, 200-mile bicycle ride from Chicago to Elkhorn, Wis., and back is set for July 9-10. The event is the largest grossing annual fundraiser for the Test Positive Aware Network ( TPAN ) .
"When I first did the Ride, there were only 60 riders. It has since grown to about 300," said Wynsma, who is in his third year as a co-chairman for the event. "Being a part of the growth [ of the Ride ] has been just as amazing as the first time I finished it. Marathon runners can relate to the satisfaction you get from finishing a high-endurance event; it is addicting and wonderful. I would love to see this become the premier event people do in the first part of the summer, just like the [ Chicago ] Marathon seems to be [ every October ] .
"Initially, my doctor told me about the Ride and I thought it would be a great challenge physically. I am not a big runner, but have always ridden my bike. Before the first Ride I did, a friend of mine, Greg Fanning, died. He was found in his apartment. He was Positive and struggled with some issues, [ and yet ] if he knew TPAN could help, he just might still be around. That's part of why I ride—I want people to know that there is a place for someone who is positive, [ perhaps ] struggling with addiction problems, that there is a non-judging, safe and effective place to get help. The money I help bring in makes sure those programs stay afloat and the doors stay open."
The other co-chairmen this year are Angie Frank, Rick Heinz and Matt Daniel, while Richard Cordova, Billy Struber and Rhett Lindsey ( who now works for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago ) have been key in production of the Ride.
The Ride, Wynsma said, "proves HIV is not a death sentence."
"Someone who is positive doesn't have to lie down, suffer and wait for death," he said. "Riding 200 miles, in two days is no easy task, even for an experienced athlete and to see people both positive and negative take this on, and complete it, makes you feel like a superhero, and I know several, healthy negative people who wouldn't even attempt this Ride."
Wynsma has, for the past several years, captained his Ride team. Naturally, it's called, Team Shaine—and it has about 30 riders this year, up from 11 last year.
"The people of Team Shaine are some of the coolest and most passionate people I have met," Wynsma said. "We were not the first ones across the finish line [ last year ] , but that's not what [ the Ride ] is about. It is, instead, coming in as a team, and I wanted everyone to share that feeling of accomplishment and being cheered in together." ( For more on Team Shaine, go to: www.teamshaine.com . )
Team Shaine members this year range in age from their early 20s to late 40s, male and female, positive and negative members.
"The goal of the team is to bring in as much money as we can, have a blast doing it, and always support our teammates," he said. "The team is incredibly good-looking, incredibly strong with a fun personality. We have a ball together. I can't wait to ride in with them, in July."
The co-captains on Team Shaine this year are Brian Harder, Bill Fischer and Paul Hirsch.
"My future vision for Team Shaine is to use it as a way for people to get involved with charity bicycle rides," Wynsma said. "Providing training and fundraising help. I think it would be a great goal for my clients and anybody else to go for."
Wynsma will be among many Ride participates this year sporting an orange flag on their bicycle to symbolize that, yes, they are HIV-positive.
"The purpose of the [ orange ] flags is to show how intermingled people are, people who are positive and people who are negative, and to show we are all in this together, fighting for the same result. Surviving and living," he said.
And certainly not alone, dying or dead, stuck in a dark, dusty office with no voice.
Photo by Ross Forman
