I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Reality

In 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie exhibition launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a lesbian. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out answers.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my friends and I didn't have Reddit or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, The flamboyant singer embraced women's fashion, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I chose to get married. My partner relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the show - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was standing in front of a small television screen where the film clip for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of born divas; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs 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 end. At the moment when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I craved his narrow hips and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a much more frightening possibility.

I required additional years before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor soon after. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to explore expression like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.