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

During 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had only been with men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore male clothing, The Culture Club frontman adopted girls' clothes, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were publicly out.

I craved his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, encounter a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a small television screen where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. At the moment when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his narrow hips and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a separate matter, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required further time before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and started wearing male attire.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I could.

I booked myself in to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I worried about occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.