Por Victor Luna, Especialista en Programas, NMAC
I would like to share part of my journey.
There is something about New York City. Everyone talks about the lights, the opportunities, the endless energy… but very few people talk about how lonely it can feel. Eso se aprende con un poco de dolor y soledad.
I remember walking down 14th Street toward 5th Avenue on my way to work, crying nonstop. I had been living in the city for just over a year and was navigating one of the hardest moments of my life: a divorce. As a Latino immigrant, far away from my family, everything around me felt yellow. I don’t know how to explain it, but when you’re sick, the world almost looks sepia. That’s exactly how life felt.
For a long time, I avoided therapy because of the stigma. “Tú puedes.” “You’ll be fine.” Those were the messages I grew up hearing. But the truth is, many of the people around me were carrying heavy stories of their own. We were all just trying to survive.
Ironically, I first connected with mental health services while looking for PEP. What I thought would be one appointment turned into something much bigger. Organizations across New York didn’t just ask about HIV. They asked if I had food, if I needed a MetroCard to get to my appointments, if I felt kinda safe. At first, I was skeptical. La burra no era arisca, los palos la hicieron. It’s a saying that means people aren’t born distrustful; sometimes life teaches them to be. After everything life had thrown at me, it was hard to believe that strangers genuinely wanted to help. Back then, I didn’t know what a psychosocial assessment was. I just knew someone cared enough to ask.
Week after week, therapy became my safe space, along with the weekly calls with my mom and my aunt, in one of the biggest cities in the world. I started going back to the gym, and eventually became a runner. I slowly replaced habits that were hurting me with habits that helped me heal. Little by little, I found myself again.
That experience changed my life. It showed me the power of MENTAL HEALTH, the power of organizations working together and reminded me that physical health and mental health are inseparable. I realized that HIV prevention wasn’t only about medication. It was about meeting people where they are, understanding everything they carry, and helping them move forward with dignity.
Today, that’s why I do the work I do. Every referral, every conversation, and every act of kindness is my way of honoring the people who once did the same for me.
So, if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll treat people with kindness. You never know what someone is carrying. And if you’re a Latino, an immigrant, or simply someone feeling alone in a big city or a small town, no estás solo. We’re here for you. Sometimes, asking for help isn’t giving up. It’s the bravest thing you’ll ever do.
This photo was taken after one of my therapy sessions. I was walking through Central Park, taking in the city one step at a time. Looking back, it was one of the moments when I realized I was alone, but I was also becoming comfortable spending time with myself. Little by little, I was finding peace in my own company.