I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Discover the Reality

Back in 2011, a few years before the celebrated David Bowie show opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out understanding.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from pop stars, and throughout the eighties, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I lived driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the gallery, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I stepped inside the display - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, encounter a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and expressed annoyance 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 fleeting feeling of understanding for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as gay was a separate matter, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting outlook.

It took me further time before I was ready. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a physician not long after. It took further time before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared materialized.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.