Aidan Wharton
Jul 18, 2025
Destigmatizing the Shame Around STIs
As I made my way to the Fire Island Pines for the very first time, I had one thing on my mind: sex.
On the ferry ride over, I daydreamed of lazy days by the pool and busy nights with jaw-dropping men, and as I saw the shoreline draw nearer, I knew that this sexual playground was about to open its gates to me.
Then, my phone vibrated with an unknown NYC area code.
"Hello, this is the New York City Sexual Health Clinic. We're calling today to let you know that you tested positive for gonorrhea."
My stomach dropped somewhere below the hull of the ferry, deep into the waters of the Long Island Sound. Not only did I think my first trip to the Pines was ruined, but the night before, I had just had the best first date of my entire life.
I turned to my friend seated next to me, who read the news instantly on my face.
"How am I going to tell Casey? He's going to hate me."
But little did I know, Casey's answer would literally change the course of my life and teach me a valuable lesson about STIs along the way.
So in today's piece, I'm exploring not just my story, but current STI trends facing the gay community, what we need to do to be responsible members of a sexual community, and of course, what Casey said that made us both know that this was something that would last forever.
A Rise In Responsibility
With the advent of PrEP in the last decade, condom use has plummeted among gay men, and STI rates have increased accordingly. (For this article, I'll be referring to chlamydia, gonorrhea, and syphilis as the three most common STIs faced by those on PrEP.)
Condoms, which used to be a necessity, have now been relegated to the dusty corners of our sex drawers. And while it may seem irresponsible, condomless sex is no longer necessarily unsafe sex, but some behaviors we're engaging in do have risks associated.
According to the CDC, syphilis rates have increased by 61% in the past 10 years. And a third of those cases were among gay men. Chlamydia and gonorrhea rates are also rising among gay men, with antibiotic-resistant strains making headlines frequently.
But there are also breakthroughs.
A great addition to the sexual health roster is DoxyPep, 200mg of Doxycycline taken within 72 hours after possible exposure. Clinical trials have shown that DoxyPep can lead to a 70% reduction in syphilis and chlamydia and a 50% reduction in gonorrhea.
So there's no need for panic; we just need more diligence about how we talk about STIs.
Let me be the first to break the stigma.
I've had a fair share of STIs. Sometimes I know exactly where they've come from, sometimes I don't. Some have had symptoms, but most have been asymptomatic. Sometimes I'm really good at communicating. Sometimes I could be better.
But here's what I've learned about how to handle them.
What To Do Before An STI
The first thing to do is normalize talking about STIs. They're a part of sex, and having one doesn't mean anything about you, your choice in partners, or your worth.
Before sex, a very quick "hey, I'm on PrEP and here's the last time I was tested" can build trust fast and show responsibility. It shows that you care about your partner's health. And I don't know about you, but I find responsibility sexy.
If you've never gotten tested, most urgent cares or doctor's offices offer STI panels. Just make sure they test your mouth, genitals, and butt (some doctors won't think about that due to their own hetero bias).
If your city has one, check out an LGBTQ clinic. There's something so comforting about being in a space that is inclusive of Queer sexual health. Just having doctors and clinicians who are well-versed in terminology is huge. It's the difference between a doctor awkwardly asking if you're a "receptive or penetrative partner" or them just asking "do you top or bottom" like it's no big deal (cuz it's not).
Now, it can take up to two weeks to get your results and make sure you see all your results from all three places before having sex again. My first time getting tested, I didn't know that I was getting three separate results; I just saw the one and thought I was good (I was not).
What To Do During An STI
If you do end up getting a positive test result, take a deep breath and remember that it's all going to be okay. These three STIs are curable. Call your doctor and start your treatment.
Once you've let your emotions settle, figure out who you need to tell. If someone isn't cool about it, that's on them, not you. If you're feeling nervous, there are even websites you can use to anonymously tell folks.
If you need to reschedule, let future partners know; they'll be grateful that you're being so honest, and should be more than happy to wait a week to get naked with you. Then just take care of your body and be gentle with yourself.
What To Do After An STI
Don't let having an STI knock you off your sexual game. I've found it's best to just treat, deal, and move on. The more you try to figure out where it came from, the more energy you're giving to something that doesn't matter. What matters is that you take care of yourself and the other people you're getting naked with.
Having an STI does not mean you're irresponsible or making bad choices; sometimes these things just happen. Gay men often carry heavier shame around STIs thanks to the trauma of AIDS, but we are living in different times with different resources.
The best thing you can do is be kind to yourself and others.
When I had my first STI, the couple I told first was so kind that it made me feel normal and accepted. I then had to tell another couple, whose response was "Ugh, not again. We just dealt with this", which told me that they were probably the ones I got it from, and they hadn't told me about their exposure in the first place.
But What About Casey??
Right, back to our love story.
I spent my first five hours on Fire Island frantically composing and recomposing my text to Casey, trying to figure out how to tell him about the STI, but also how much I enjoyed our first date. Finally, I sent the text and awaited my fate.
He responded almost instantly, saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I actually thought this might happen."
After my initial shock, he explained that with his first two serious boyfriends before me, he had been the one to send a similar text in the early days. So, my text to him felt like a sign that he and I were destined for something serious.
And now, 2,520 days later, with 11 days until we leave for our wedding. Here's the proof that we are.
We're proof that something beautiful can come out of an awkward moment and that sex and STIs are what you make of them.
See, Queer people have the privilege of unprotected sex without fear of pregnancy. With advances in PrEP, DoxyPep, and hopeful news stories about cures, we have the tools to have the kinds of sex we want.
But with all that action comes responsibility that's not always glamorous. Sometimes it's a hassle to go get tested as frequently as I know I need to, but it's our responsibility as sexual community members to take care of our entire communities. Not just the people we're having sex with, but the people they're having sex with, too.
So, take your PrEP, make an appointment to go get tested, and when you’re cleared, go celebrate by having some wonderful, wild sex.
We’re honored to share this powerful, honest, and beautifully written story by Aidan Wharton — a Broadway actor and the thoughtful voice behind Gay Buffet, a once-weekly Substack newsletter that explores queer life, love, sex, relationships, and culture with nuance and heart.
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Let’s break STI stigma, celebrate queer stories, and support voices that make our communities stronger and kinder.