Figuring Things Out
By Cira Rosario
When I was seven years old, I had a best friend whom I adored more than anyone else in the world. One day, that beautiful little girl kissed me, and I kissed her back without thinking. It felt natural, pure—an extension of the deep connection we shared. But that moment of innocent affection was shattered when my parents caught us. Their fury reflected the religious condemnation and rigid beliefs they had been taught. They told me that what I felt was wrong, that love could only exist between a man and a woman. They warned me of God’s wrath, insisting that what I had done was unnatural.
I was just a little girl, too young to grasp what was happening fully, but that day, I learned that something so genuine and pure was unacceptable in my parent’s eyes—something to be ashamed of.
As I grew older, I followed the path expected of me. I dated men, but I always felt a profound disconnect. It was as though I couldn’t fully relate to them unless they had a softer, more feminine side. But even when I found men who were gentle, sensitive, and emotionally expressive, the flicker of connection I might feel still never seemed enough to bridge the gap.
Still, at 18 years old, I married a man. Looking back, I’m not surprised that marriage didn’t magically “fix” the disconnect I had always felt. At the time, I thought it could. In the beginning, I convinced myself that love and passion would grow with time, especially when I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Instead, I found myself losing any attraction I’d had for my husband. Two years later, we divorced.
Many years later, at 52, I decided to complete my baccalaureate degree at SUNY Canton. During that time, I had an incredible advisor. Over time, I became comfortable enough with her to disclose my inner struggles. Then, one Thursday night, she invited me to a SPECTRUM group meeting. I said, “How?” I was an online student. I lived hours away from Canton. My advisor told me she would bring her laptop to the club meeting and set up a Zoom session so that I could attend. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I trusted her.
As the evening unfolded, I found myself observing the students’ deep respect for one another’s thoughts and opinions. I was in awe of how much they believed in the SPECTRUM vision.
During that first meeting and the ones that followed (always via Zoom) before I graduated, I felt something within me shifting. It was a quiet but powerful transformation—an internal sense of liberation and restoration. As I shared small pieces of myself that I had hidden for decades, even from myself, I experienced a deep sense of resonance and acceptance. The more I interacted with SPECTRUM, the more peaceful my world felt. It was as if a weight I had never fully acknowledged was finally lifting.
I don’t know if this would be considered a traditional coming-out story, but I know this: I have stepped into the light. For the first time, I feel free and unashamed of who I am and who I love. Groups like SPECTRUM are essential for providing students of all ages with a space to explore their identities, embrace who they are, and take pride in their truth.
Cira Rosario is an alumnus of SUNY Canton. She graduated in 2024 with a Bachelor of Science degree in Health Care Management.