I Believed Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the celebrated David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and attraction preferences, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced feminine outfits, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I lived operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull returning to the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was searching for when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, stumble across a hint about my own identity.

I soon found myself standing in front of a small television screen where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me further time before I was willing. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume all his life. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor shortly afterwards. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.