I Was Convinced I Was a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Realize the Reality

During 2011, a few years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the America.

At that time, I had started questioning both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, seeking out answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I were without social platforms or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to music icons, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman adopted girls' clothes, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his lean physique and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I lived driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the museum, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to remove everything and become Bowie too. I craved his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as gay was one thing, but transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

It took me additional years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the identical footage 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 male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I could.

I made arrangements to see a doctor soon after. It took another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I feared materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and since I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.