I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Truth

During 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had wed. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the US.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out answers.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have Reddit or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward music icons, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

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

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was searching for when I walked into the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three accompanying performers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to end. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was one thing, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before medical intervention - the chance of refusal and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in New York City, five years later, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a physician soon after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.