I Believed I Was a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself were without online forums or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced feminine outfits, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull returning to the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was searching for when I entered the show - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself positioned before a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had seen personally, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I aimed to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was a separate matter, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing male attire.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a physician soon after. I needed another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I worried about occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I can.