I Believed I Was a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Actual Situation

During 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, living in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find clarity.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my companions and myself were without social platforms or video sharing sites to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from music icons, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported boys' clothes, Boy George adopted girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, 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 transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the masculinity I had once given up.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit returning to England at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was searching for when I entered the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I needed additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume all his life. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor soon after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared materialized.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.