I Thought I Was a Lesbian - David Bowie Enabled Me to Uncover the Reality

During 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, living in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward music icons, and throughout the eighties, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore feminine outfits, and bands such as well-known groups featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and precise cut, his strong features and male chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, stumble across a insight into my true nature.

I soon found myself positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his male chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was one thing, but transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

I needed further time before I was willing. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. It took additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I can.