Episode Details

A Black British-Caribbean woman diagnosed with HIV at 37 who told nobody for ten years - not her children, not her colleagues, not a single friend - and found her way back to her own body through yoga and Buddhism.

Summary

Louise Vallace grew up as one of the only Black children in a white Essex school, putting a tea towel on her head to pretend she had long flowing hair like the other girls. Her parents came from St Lucia during the Windrush era and were met with signs in windows: No Dogs, No Irish, No Blacks. Louise moved through school, the Caribbean, East London, and eventually into a senior career in local government - company cars, corporate cards, a visit from Tony Blair for a project she'd designed. On the surface, she'd made it.

In 2006, aged 37, divorced, with three children, she went for her first ever sexual health test. She'd been sterilised and didn't think she needed one. The nurse told her everything came back negative apart from one result. Louise went home, checked her will, and put a smile on her face when the children came back from school. The next day she rang her critical illness insurance. They didn't cover HIV.

For the next ten years, Louise told nobody. She was the only Black woman around the boardroom table at work, the only Black woman she could find in HIV community spaces, and now she was carrying a secret that intersected with every form of otherness she'd already spent a lifetime navigating. She took on what she calls masculine energy - became one of the boys - so she wouldn't have to tap into the femininity that nobody would hold. She dissociated from her body entirely. When someone later asked her where she felt sadness in her body, she didn't know.

The telling began with a journal. She wrote that she had something she needed to say to her children and couldn't find the words, and the tears fell onto the page. Her daughter flung her arms around her and said, why didn't you tell me? Her sons said, it's not that deep, Mum. She found yoga, Buddhism, and the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, and slowly learned to come home to her own body - dodgy knees, jittery hip, and all.

Key Moments

• [02:05] Essex, the tea towel, and being the only Black children - growing up visibly different, and parents who'd crossed an ocean only to find signs that said No Blacks
• [05:01] St Lucia to London - her mother arriving in a cotton dress to a city full of smoke and buildings, and the four years the family spent back in the Caribbean
• [07:33] Career and corporate cards - the senior role, the Blondie records, the respect campaign that brought Tony Blair to Newham, and the colleague who resented her for it
• [08:28] The first sexual health test at 37 - never having been tested, not thinking she needed to, and the moment the nurse said everything was negative apart from one
• [11:05] Death sentence - all she knew was that gay men got HIV and it had nothing to do with her. She checked her will that evening
• [12:50] The insurance call - ringing a critical illness policy she'd paid into for years, and being told they don't cover HIV
• [14:17] Ten years of silence - three children, a career, school governorship, and a secret she feared would destroy all of it if it surfaced
• [15:19] Dissociation - the complete detachment from her body, the masculine armour, and the question nobody could answer: where do you feel it?
• [17:39] Dating with a secret - the impossible opening line, and borrowing Jonathan Blake's observation: nobody leads with "I've got this killer virus coursing through my veins"
• [18:26] The journal and the children - tears falling onto the page, a daughter's arms, and two sons who said it's not that deep
• [20:28] Hyde Pa