“This Was My Sliding Doors Moment” Dan’s Story of HIV, Drag, and Transformation

When Dan sits down to talk, there’s an immediate sense of ease, warmth, and the kind of clarity that comes only from someone who has done the deep, difficult work of self-reflection. As a drag performer, fashion professional, and long-time volunteer with Positively UK, Dan’s story is layered with wit, wisdom, and powerful moments of vulnerability, each shaping how he lives and shares his life with HIV.

Dan was diagnosed in February 2018 during a routine sexual health check at London’s Homerton University Hospital. “I met six or seven incredible healthcare professionals that day,” he recalls. “They’ve got the Clifton Centre there for sexual health and the Jonathan Mann Clinic for HIV. When you get diagnosed, they take you through what I call the VIP area behind the normal waiting room, through a secret corridor, your own receptionist… very exclusive,” he says with a dry laugh. “But honestly, that day was wild. It was intense. I was shocked. No matter how educated you are about HIV, when it’s your name on the paper, it hits differently.”

He’d tested negative only five months earlier. “In December, just before the diagnosis, I’d had a short flu and this weird rash on my arms. I showed it to the pharmacist, who said it might be stress from moving to a new house or having a new carpet. And it went away. I didn’t think anything of it until I got the diagnosis and learned about seroconversion. Then the penny dropped.”

Dan grew up in Queensland, Australia, and remembers being a child of the ‘90s, exposed to the fear-inducing HIV campaigns that shaped a generation. “It almost felt like fate. Like being a gay man, this was written in the stars that it would happen to me.” When he moved to Sydney at 18, one of his housemates worked for an HIV organisation and left a stack of pamphlets on his bed. “It scared the hell out of me,” Dan admits. “I’d just come out, was ready for my first boyfriend, and suddenly I was terrified of myself.”

One night, dressed to the nines and full of anticipation, he went to a Kylie Minogue launch party. “I was a fresh little twink with a handmade outfit and all. These two sexy muscle daddies started dancing with me, and I was thrilled until I remembered those pamphlets. I panicked. I told them I had to go to the loo and ran out of the club, down the stairs, into a taxi I could barely afford. Gay Cinderella style.”

Years later, living in London and immersed in the queer nightlife and drag scene, Dan was well-informed about HIV He and his long-term partner had recently opened their relationship and tried to join a PrEP trial. “My partner was accepted, but during my interview, I downplayed what we were doing, and they said I was low risk and denied me. Three months later, I was back at the clinic, newly diagnosed. That was a bitter pill to swallow.”
“That said, I’m so grateful he was on Prep as that protected him during the period before my diagnosis,” he continues. Three months later, I was back at the clinic, newly diagnosed. That was a bitter pill to swallow.”

Despite the devastating news, Dan found immediate support through a peer mentor named Chris Buckley. “I always say that meeting Chris was my sliding doors moment. I met six or seven healthcare professionals that day, but it was Chris, who had lived experience of HIV, who made the difference. When he told me his story, it wasn’t abstract at all. He’d been where I was. It grounded me. Honestly, I don’t know if I’d be here if I hadn’t met him.”

Chris introduced Dan to Positively UK, where he now volunteers. “That community became a lifeline. I do an annual World AIDS Day fundraiser cabaret as my drag persona, Daisy. It’s about raising awareness and celebrating life.”

Dan has been doing drag for over a decade, initially just for fun with his partner. “It was totally self-indulgent at first, hosting, go-go dancing, dressing up. But after my diagnosis, it became meaningful. My friend Coco Femme Fontaine was a big influence. She uses her drag to speak on race, gender, and politics. So, I started using Daisy to speak about HIV and U=U. Now, I run a huge cabaret fundraiser yearly and march in drag at Pride with Positively UK.”

When he’s not dazzling crowds in heels and lashes, Dan works as a production manager for a high-end British designer. “I studied fashion but don’t design anymore; I wasn’t cut out for it. I love the technical side and still make Daisy’s costumes, so I get my creative fix.”

Looking back, Dan reflects on how early HIV education shaped him. “It protected me, maybe. But it also made me afraid of myself, of sex, of intimacy. That fear took years to undo.”

When asked what advice he’d give someone newly diagnosed, Dan doesn’t hesitate. “Be kind to yourself. There’s so much information thrown at you, but it’s okay if it takes time to process. And seek out peer support. Talking to someone who’s been through it without judgment is transformative. It was for me.”

Dan’s story isn’t about shame, blame, or even survival. It’s about reclamation, turning fear into fuel, and finding joy in places that once felt dangerous.

In a world where too many people still whisper about HIV, Dan,, sparkling, sincere, and unashame,d, raises his voice.

And it’s beautiful.