I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - David Bowie Enabled Me to Uncover the Actual Situation

During 2011, a couple of years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and sexual orientation, looking to find clarity.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my companions and myself were without Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to pop stars, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured artists who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the V&A, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had encountered in real life, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of born divas; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to be over. At the moment when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I wanted to remove everything and emulate the artist. I wanted his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but gender transition was a significantly scarier possibility.

I needed further time before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and began donning male attire.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a stint in New York City, five years later, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor shortly afterwards. I needed another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the things I anticipated occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.