Hi, I’m Crispytenders69. This isn’t the kind of story I ever thought I’d be sharing, but life has a way of throwing unexpected challenges at us. And sometimes, those challenges need to be talked about — not just for my own sake, but for anyone else out there who might be struggling with something similar. Because no one should feel alone in this.
A little over a month ago, I underwent cryotherapy to treat my genital warts. They were mostly small, flat, and located above my genitalia. The freezing process wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I held onto the hope that this was the first step toward getting rid of them for good. The aftermath of the treatment was mixed — only one wart scabbed over and fell off, while the others simply changed color without disappearing entirely. I thought I was making progress, but then a new one appeared on my thigh.
I hadn’t shaved. I hadn’t touched the area. I had done everything I was supposed to do. And yet, there it was.
Today, I had my second appointment. The doctor reassured me that most of the warts were flat and healing, but two still remained stubbornly raised. They told me that with another session or two of cryotherapy, they should be gone. I asked about alternative treatments — maybe a vaccine, an oral medication, anything that could give me a better chance at clearing this up faster — but they told me cryotherapy was the best available option. Cutting or laser treatments could risk spreading the infection further. And to make things worse, the U.S. only offers one HPV vaccine, which covers only a couple of strains.
So now, I wait. And I try not to let my mind spiral into dark places.
Do you feel like your ex not only gave you an STI but also permanently rewired your ability to trust people?
Absolutely. Trust has never come easily to me. I’ve always been cautious — maybe even a little guarded. But this? This shattered what little trust I had left. It’s one thing to be hurt emotionally, to be betrayed, to feel used. It’s another thing entirely to have your body permanently altered by someone else’s carelessness.
This isn’t just a broken heart that will heal with time. This is a lifetime of wondering — wondering if it will ever truly be gone, if I’ll ever be able to stop scanning my body for new symptoms, if I’ll ever meet someone who won’t judge me for this.
This experience didn’t just make me wary of trusting others — it made me question my own judgment, my ability to see people clearly. And that’s a difficult thing to reconcile.
Do you resent the fact that someone else’s recklessness forced you into a lifetime of paranoia?
Yes. And that’s hard to admit because I don’t want to live with resentment. I don’t want to carry that weight. But it lingers in the back of my mind every time I look in the mirror, every time I examine my skin, every time I wonder whether I’ll have to explain this to a future partner.
I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t deserve this. And yet, here I am, living with the consequences of someone else’s choices.
If they did know, do you think they’d ever admit it?
They did know. And I found out only after she cheated on me.
Let that sink in for a second.
Not only did she betray me, but she did so knowing full well that she was putting my health at risk. That kind of revelation changes you. It makes you question everything — not just about the person who hurt you, but about yourself. How could I have been so blind? How did I not see the warning signs? Was I too trusting? Too naive? Too desperate for love?
It’s not just about the STI. It’s about the complete and utter disregard for me as a person.
Do you feel like society views you differently now?
Sometimes, yes. There’s an undeniable stigma surrounding STIs. People associate them with carelessness, with recklessness, with being "dirty." But the truth is, this can happen to anyone. It happened to me, and I was careful. I thought I was safe. I thought I knew the person I was with.
But society doesn’t always see the nuance in these situations. The reality is, my symptoms can be treated, and the virus itself can go dormant. It’s not a death sentence. It doesn’t make me any less of a person. But that doesn’t mean the world will always see it that way.
If someone said, “I could never date someone with an STI”, how would you respond?
I would accept their feelings. I wouldn’t try to change their mind. If someone doesn’t feel comfortable dating me because of this, that’s their choice. And honestly? I wouldn’t want to be with someone who defines me by my STI rather than who I am as a person.
I deserve someone who sees me for more than a medical diagnosis.
Do you believe this happened for a reason, or is it just pure, meaningless suffering?
I don’t think everything in life has to have a profound meaning. Sometimes, bad things just happen. Life is unpredictable, and sometimes it throws us curveballs we never saw coming. This isn’t some grand lesson from the universe. This isn’t some test of character. It just is.
And now, I have to figure out how to move forward.
Would you rather have this or a visible facial scar that everyone could see?
It depends on the scar. But ultimately, this is my reality. I can’t change it. And in a way, I’ve already made peace with it. This is a part of me now, and I have to learn how to live with it.
If Someone Could Guarantee You One Year of Being Completely Symptom-Free, What Would You Do Differently?
Right now, my symptoms are almost entirely gone. So honestly? Nothing.
I’ve already adjusted to this new reality. I’ve already learned how to live with it. A year of being symptom-free wouldn’t change the past. It wouldn’t erase what’s happened. It wouldn’t change how I see myself.
What’s one thing you wish you could tell your past self, before all of this happened?
Slow down. Don’t rush into things. Let love unfold naturally instead of trying to force it.
I think about that a lot. Maybe if I had taken things slower, if I had listened to my instincts, if I had valued myself more — I don’t know. But hindsight always feels so clear. It’s easy to see what we should have done differently after the damage is already done.
Living with an STI is complicated. Some days, I barely think about it. Other days, it’s all I can focus on. I check my skin obsessively. I analyze every tiny bump, every itch, every discoloration. I worry about future rejection. I wonder if this will ever truly be behind me.
But at the end of the day, this doesn’t define me. I am not my STI. I am not my past. I am not the mistakes of someone else.
I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds. But I refuse to let this break me.
Also Read: 31-year-old woman's personal HPV story
