I Was Convinced I Was a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

During 2011, several years before the celebrated David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, including one I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single parent to four children, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned male clothing, Boy George adopted girls' clothes, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was looking for when I entered the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three accompanying performers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting possibility.

I required several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and started wearing masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I can.