I Thought I Was a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

During 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, making my home in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and sexual orientation, searching for answers.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. As teenagers, my friends and I lacked access to online forums or YouTube to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported male clothing, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and flat chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My spouse relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the masculinity I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender quite like David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I walked into the show - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near 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; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to be over. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I desired to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and began donning men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. It took another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.