I Thought That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Realize the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a lesbian. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced parent to four children, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had started questioning both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I were without Reddit or digital content to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his narrow hips and precise cut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was looking for when I walked into the show - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, stumble across a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. At the moment when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier possibility.

I needed additional years before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician shortly afterwards. I needed another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about materialized.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to explore expression like Bowie did - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.