Pre-order open — Available now
POSITIVO an emotional essay
It's not about being okay all the time.
It's about no longer measuring yourself by that.
Pre-order open — Available now
It's not about being okay all the time.
It's about no longer measuring yourself by that.
Positivo is currently written in Spanish only — there's no English edition yet. Interested in one? Let me know and I'll keep you posted — every message genuinely helps me decide if it's worth translating.
Available now
Spain is excluded from this pre-order. Any purchase made from or shipped to Spain will be cancelled.
"The shame isn't mine: it's borrowed."
"Naming is the beginning of freedom."
"HIV was there with me. I decided we'd become friends."
"I wasn't afraid of HIV. I was terrified the doctor was right."
"Choosing to keep living is a decision too."
"Guilt transforms when it stops looking for someone to blame."
"You can wish for a cure and still make peace with the illness."
"The shame isn't mine: it's borrowed."
"Naming is the beginning of freedom."
"HIV was there with me. I decided we'd become friends."
"I wasn't afraid of HIV. I was terrified the doctor was right."
"Choosing to keep living is a decision too."
"Guilt transforms when it stops looking for someone to blame."
"You can wish for a cure and still make peace with the illness."
The book
What happens when a single word seems capable of defining your entire life? Positivo isn't a book about an illness: it's a story of transformation, an intimate journey that combines personal experience, science and reflection to question what we think we know about health, identity and the meaning of living.
Positivo is not a self-help manual. It's not a medical guide. It won't tell you that "undetectable = case closed" or that "HIV doesn't define you" as if that were so simple to believe.
It's an autobiographical-philosophical essay written by someone who has lived with HIV since 1994. Someone who took more than 20 years to say it out loud by name. Someone who knows the difference between silence as strategy and silence as a sentence.
A book that asks uncomfortable questions: when does silence stop being protection? Who has the right to your truth? Can you wish for a cure and make peace with the illness at the same time?
There are no definitive answers. There's something better: honesty.
If the first thought that crosses your mind after an HIV diagnosis is that you're going to die, here's my answer: yes, you're going to die. So am I. So is everyone. It only takes one thing to die, and that's being alive.
— Introduction
I learned that denial isn't always denying reality. Sometimes it's a form of resistance. Sometimes it's a way of telling pain: "Hey, I don't have time for this right now."
— Chapter on the early years
We were told normalization would come with medical progress. And it did, but... what about everything that stayed outside the biomedical? Stigma still wears you down. It's the other chronic inflammation no one talks about.
— Epilogue
Who is this for?
Newly diagnosed or with years of history. For those who've already heard every slogan and something still feels hollow.
Partners, families, health professionals. Those who want to understand what the pamphlets don't say. And be more empathetic.
For anyone who reads narrative and isn't afraid of it mixing with philosophy, criticism and raw emotion.
Nor for those looking for mandatory optimism. Nor for those who think "Positivo" means all smiles.
Families, professionals or institutions that choose to speak from "political correctness" to avoid getting their hands dirty.
"Undetectable = case closed." Ehhh, no. Science moves faster than stigma, and that gap is exactly what this book is about.
Inside the book
Córdoba, 1994. A doctor with no empathy, a partner who "already knew," and the decision not to medicate. How the brain does strange things when it faces horror.
Learning to call it by its name. Why naming it out loud changes something in the body. The meditations, the Bach flowers, and the silence of the early years.
The dilemma of silence in relationships. The fear of rejection, the fear of violence, and the moral asymmetry of knowing something the other person doesn't.
Being forcibly outed at a dinner. Who has the right to your story? How lying can be, in certain contexts, the most radical act of self-love.
Fear, anxiety, shame, guilt. Not as textbook concepts, but as concrete physical experiences. Tools that aren't magic but work.
HIV doesn't have a single face or a single body. Widening the conversation beyond the stereotypes that still define how the virus is talked about.
The voicemail full of hatred that I kept for years. Why I deleted it. Goodbye guilt. Hello shared responsibility. Choosing to keep living is a decision too.
An essay on HIV, identity, and living without being reduced to a diagnosis — now available for pre-order in Argentina, Chile and worldwide.
See all 3 stores ↑Available for pre-order in Argentina, Chile and worldwide (shipping to the rest of the world, except Spain). The Spanish edition arrives in September. About the editions of this book: this book is published in different territories through different publishers. As a result, some editions may include corrections, updates, supplementary content, or design variations specific to each publication. These differences respond to editorial and updating criteria, and do not substantially alter the content, message, or essence of the work.