I Believed Myself to Be a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the celebrated David Bowie show launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated parent to four children, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my friends and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore male clothing, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, 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 spouse transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was searching for when I entered the show - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a small television screen where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to end. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and started wearing masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a stint in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, 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 wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. It took another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.