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

In 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - before the internet. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer adopted women's fashion, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the United States 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 quite like David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my true nature.

Before long I was positioned before a small television screen where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, 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 removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. However I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I did my best to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a stint in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. The process required further time before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to play with gender as Bowie had - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.