The next time you think about what HIV looks like, think about Greg Louganis winning two Gold medals at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul.
He became the first man and only the second diver in Olympic history to sweep both diving events in two consecutive Olympics—and he did it six months after learning that he was living with HIV. Greg was taking AZT at the time, setting his alarm for every four hours, even waking up in the middle of the night during the competition to take the medication.
“When I was in the pool, when I was competing, when I was training, HIV/AIDS didn’t exist. That was a sanctuary for me. So it was a place that I could go to, really to seek refuge from the stress of the HIV diagnosis.”
Now at 62, Greg is proof of what is possible: you can live and compete at the highest levels with HIV. You can win gold medals and be considered one of the greatest divers in the history of the sport.
I had the opportunity to speak with the four-time Olympic gold medal winner in 2022.
We talk about the controversy created by the concussion he received at the 1988 Olympics, sharing his HIV status with the world in 1995, and adjusting to the new reality of HIV today, where with access to appropriate treatments, HIV is no longer a death sentence.
And here’s a fun fact: Eric Marcus, my dear friend and creator of the fantastic Making Gay History podcast, co-wrote Greg Louganis’ 1995 memoir, Breaking The Surface, a #1 New York Times bestseller.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
Jeffrey Masters: I’m going to start off by going back to the 1988 Olympics in Seoul. I’m fascinated by that moment because we have incredibly few examples of athletes living with HIV and competing at the highest levels. And so at that Olympics, you walked away with two gold medals. But going back to that time in 1988, that was not a certainty by any means. At the time, how were you thinking about how HIV might affect your diving career?
Greg Louganis: I really didn’t know. Six months prior to the Olympic Games in Seoul, Korea, in ’88, I was diagnosed HIV positive. Now, back in ’88, we thought of HIV/AIDS as a death sentence. So my thought was, “Well, if I’m HIV positive, I don’t want to waste my coach’s time, I don’t want to waste my teammates’ time.” So I was going to pack up my bags and go back to California and lock myself in my house and wait to die, because that was what we thought of HIV at that time, so that was my intent.
But my doctor, who was also my cousin, he encouraged me to stay and train. He said that that was the healthiest thing I could probably do for myself. They put me on AZT right away, because they wanted to treat me very aggressively. Also, at that time there were travel bans, so nobody could know about my HIV status, or I wouldn’t have been allowed into the country, into Korea. So it was a well-kept secret.
JM: I think we think about the current medication as as allowing those with HIV to live long, healthy lives. Today, you can compete and do anything you want today. But what amazes me about your story is that you did it before the drugs got good.
GL: It’s before we knew anything. AZT was an experimental drug for treatment, it was initially a cancer drug, and so they didn’t know the toxicity, they didn’t know potential side effects. We were basically guinea pigs.
The way that it was prescribed back then, it was two pills every four hours, around the clock. So you’re getting up in the middle of the night, in the middle of the morning, no matter where you are. If I was training, my little alarm would go off, and it’s like, “Oh, AZT break.” Just like in Rent.
I learned through just my life in general, as a performer, it’s like, okay, you sprained your ankle? Wrap it up and get back out there. As soon as the music starts, you’ve got to perform. It’s that mentality. I was able to compartmentalize my life. When I was in the pool, when I was competing, when I was training, HIV/AIDS didn’t exist. That was kind of a sanctuary for me. So it was a place that I could go to, really to seek refuge from the stress of the HIV diagnosis.
JM: As you said, HIV was a death sentence back then. I was wondering how that affected the decisions you were making. You fell in the Olympics that year, you hit your head on the diving board, you were bleeding, you had a concussion, you got stitches, and then you got back on the board 30 minutes later…how much of that was your drive and determination, versus also thinking that you were going to die and had nothing to lose.
GL: Well, trying to roll everything up in one little moment, going into the 1988 Olympic Games, I was the odds-on favorite, because I was world champion a couple years before, and defending champion, Olympic champion, all that stuff. Going into the competition, when I did my reverse two-and-a-half pike and hit my head on the board, in that split second I became the underdog. And so the underdog position is much more, usually generally much more comfortable to be in, because then you have nothing to lose.
And also with that incident, it kind of was a wake-up call to my coach, Ron O’Brien, and myself, to pay attention, because nothing is guaranteed, anything can happen. And so it really forced us to focus in on, okay, let’s just do one dive at a time and not get ahead of ourselves. Because once I hit my head on the springboard, I had no idea if I was going to be strong enough to do my dives on the 10-meter platform. I had to just get through that competition on the three-meter springboard first, and then we could look at the other stuff later. And so it really kind of pushed us to focus on the moment, being in the moment.
JM: When you shared with the world that you are living with HIV in ’95, that’s when the controversy started. “He’s bleeding in the pool,” even though we know now there was no way to transmit through pool water. But was any of the coverage also like, “Wow, this Olympic athlete has HIV, hit his head, and still won the gold medal”?
GL: I think initially it was a lot of finger-pointing, a lot of accusations about how dare I. But then I think it was like, “Oh wow, God, you got back up there, how’d you do that?”
I didn’t think about it, because when my coach came to me and said, “Look, you can walk away, you don’t have to get back up on the boards.” And knee-jerk reaction, I said, “We worked too long and hard to get here, and I don’t want to give up without a fight.” So then it was like, okay, gloves off, and let’s go.
JM: That timing is remarkable, where it’s 1988, the AIDS crisis is unfolding, ACT UP is acting up, right? Even though you weren’t out at the time in the Olympics, in ’95 when you did come out, that was still an incredibly dark time for HIV/AIDS. And so you coming out as living with HIV and as being this gold medal winner, to me that’s a huge PR moment to help combat stigma.
GL: Yeah, I guess it kind of turned into that, that wasn’t my intent. I was doing Jeffrey, the play.
JM: By Paul Rudnick.
GL: Yeah. And I played Darius, so I was able to live out my fantasies and fears on stage, because Darius is out and proud, he’s in gay pride marches, and he also, I felt, delivers the most poignant message to the lead character, Jeffrey, when he turns to Jeffrey and says, “Jeffrey, hate AIDS, not life.”
And that was a big part of it, because I did, I felt isolated, I felt alone. And I was thinking, you know what, chances are I’m not the only one. So if I come forward with what I’ve been dealing with, with my HIV, with all of that stuff, and open that door up, then I would hopefully be letting people in who may be feeling the same way, to let them know that they’re not alone.
JM: You were a relationship guy, and you were in a relationship for the peak of Greg Louganis fame. Does any part of you wish that you had been single and slutty, for lack of better words?
GL: It’s funny, because I probably describe myself more as a serial monogamist, as that, oh, I latch onto somebody, and it’s like, oh, that’s it, this is it, this is it, this is it, kind of thing. And then I stay too long, and it’s like, oh my God, this isn’t working, oh, this is not what I thought it was. But you learn through relationships and all that. And now I’m happily divorced, and I’m very good friends with my ex-husband, and we still share a lot of things together, it’s a good thing.
I think we recognized that it was good for when it was, and it wasn’t necessarily meant to be a forever thing. But now I’m single, and we’ll see, that’s just it. I’m learning I need to be comfortable with myself, and I am. Me and the dogs, we do great, we navigate very well together. And also learning that we don’t have to look outside of ourselves for validation, that we can be the validating cheerleader for ourselves and have confidence in that.
JM: And so you are 62 years old and finally learning that lesson.
GL: I know. It took, yeah.
JM: I’m not saying it was, yeah.
GL: And it’s a process. Hopefully people get it sooner than 62, but—
JM: Better now than later, yeah, I don’t mean that in a judgmental way.
GL: Yeah, because sometimes you realize, I probably could have stayed in some of the relationships, but it probably wouldn’t have been productive. And also, you start building up resentments too. And so to let go of those resentments and make peace with that, and just be comfortable in your own skin and embrace yourself. And you’re looking for validation, it’s like, you know what, I know I did a good job, hey, that’s enough, I don’t need the exterior gratification.
JM: For a period of time, you were one of the most famous gay men in America. Was that challenging to have that change?
GL: Okay, so I’m dyslexic, and so I’m not one to, it was never a habit of mine to pick up a newspaper and read it every day. During my diving career, one thing that my mother used to do when I was growing up is she would come in and read the articles, and she’d share with me a nice article that somebody wrote, had nice things to say. And her instructions to me were, “Okay, next time you see this individual,” because the sports reporters, we’d see them, every so often they were at so many of our competitions, so the next time I saw them, I could say thank you for the kind words, so I can be in gratitude and be appreciative of what they might be saying about me if it was positive. The other stuff I didn’t really care about, I didn’t focus on, it wasn’t interesting to me.
JM: Well, with the mental health struggles you’ve had throughout your life, did becoming less in the public eye, did that have an effect on your mental health?
GL: Not really, I kind of appreciated it. I never really, that was never my goal. And it’s so funny, because everybody thinks fame and fortune goes hand in hand, it doesn’t. I’ll take the fortune before, you can have the fame. It was never a goal, it was never my intent, it was a byproduct of what I was doing.
JM: As you’ve said, the fortune didn’t come easy. You’ve been very open about the challenges post-Olympics. How are you doing today, money-wise?
GL: I’d be lying if I said, oh, it’s great, it’s great, it’s wonderful, no. It’s a struggle. I think everybody’s had a struggle, with the whole pandemic and the shifting, because most of my livelihood has been speaking, and that kind of events kind of dried up. And so now we’re going virtual, so it’s changed a lot. Have I found my pot of gold? Not yet, still looking.
JM: Growing up you were dyslexic, and you didn’t have a word for that, so you just thought that you were dumb. And you also said you thought you were ugly, and you didn’t fit in. And then the world gets to know this handsome, shirtless, Olympic gold medal winner. Did your brain ever make that adjustment and catch up to the way that everyone else sees you?
GL: No. No, I don’t see myself that way. It’s just, yeah, I never saw myself in that light. I mean, when they would give me these labels, it’s like, oh, that’s interesting, yeah, I still probably saw this little kid with a wide, ethnic nose.
JM: Going back in time though, you won those four back-to-back gold medals and then retired, and you’d worked for so long to achieve this one goal. I kind of wonder, what does a person do when they work so hard, for so long, to achieve something, and then they do it before they turn 30? What was it like to have to figure out what you wanted to do next?
GL: Well, I didn’t think I’d see 30, honestly.
Because I was diagnosed in ’88, and generally they gave you two years, and so I didn’t think I would see 30. And then a year would go by, a year would go by, a year would go by, kind of thing. So now at 62 it’s like, wow, now what do I do? I’ve got to get a job.
JM: Did that stop you from planning for your long-term future and financial decisions, because you didn’t think you’d have to deal with those things?
GL: Yeah. There was a point there, it’s like, oh, I’ll do whatever I want because I’m not going to be here. And then all of a sudden, it’s probably around 40, is when it’s like, shit, I’ve got to figure out what to do here, figure out a means of living and paying my bills.
JM: SReaching 40, you’ve seen firsthand the evolution of HIV/AIDS meds, from AZT to where they are now. What was that moment like when you found out that with the current drugs you could no longer transmit the virus yourself?
GL: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, that was huge. If your viral load’s undetectable, then you’re untransmittable. When that information hit, it was like, oh wow, it’s just really—
JM: A game changer.
GL: Yeah. It’s like, okay, this is definitely not what it used to be. But I still go to a couple of doctor’s appointments, young men who recently seroconverted, because it’s still frightening, you don’t know what it is, what it looks like, and how it’s going to be managed and all that stuff. And I’ve probably been on just about every HIV/AIDS medication that’s out there, so I know side effects and all that stuff. I was actually also on some studies too, to get some of the medications approved.
JM: When you found out you were undetectable, did that have a noticeable effect on your mentality, like how you went about life at all?
GL: No, because what I was conditioned to, in my early diagnosis, I’d go to my doctor’s appointment, get my numbers, and then they’d put that file back on the shelves, back in the filing cabinet. And that’s where I would put it, because okay, I have my marching orders, I’ve got to do this, this, this, and take care of myself, and then go about the business of living. So I really didn’t focus on it all that much. I didn’t know if there were more medications coming down the pipeline, I wasn’t really that stressed over all of that stuff, because I knew that it was going to be what it was going to be.
Because I didn’t have control over it. A lot of my friends were like, “Oh my God, this is the last combination I can do, because I’m resistant to all of these drugs.” And I just didn’t focus on that. So early on in the diagnosis, I had this, when they put the file away, I put the file away.
JM: In your thirties you thought that every birthday was going to be your last one. When did you stop treating birthdays like that?
GL: Well, okay, so my 33rd birthday, I was wasting, I mean, I was clearly losing weight, I wasn’t doing well. And so I thought I was saying goodbye to all my friends. I agreed to have a surprise birthday party, and all the people that showed up, it was just amazing, the areas of my life that weren’t supposed to meet under one roof. It was crazy. I had celebrities, I had acting friends, I had dance friends, I had dog training friends, from conformation to dog agility, to family, guys that I dated. It was like, oh my God, all under one roof.
But I did think that I was saying goodbye. And I went to Florida to see my cousin, checked into the hospital under an assumed name, I thought I was gone, that was it. But they found that I had a fungal infection in my colon, so once they got me the proper medication, then I rebounded from that. And then from that point on it’s like, hey, I’m here, enjoy it.
Because people say that they fear death. I don’t. What’s there to fear? You’re not going to be here, right? And whatever your beliefs are, I don’t think death is the end, it’s just a transition.
Click here to listen to the full interview on the LGBTQ&A podcast.
LGBTQ&A features interviews with the most interesting lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer people in the world. Hosted and produced by Jeffrey Masters. @jeffmasters1
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