I Thought I Was a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, living in the US.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and precise cut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My partner relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three backing singers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I aimed to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I wanted his narrow hips and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

I required further time before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and started wearing male attire.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, 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 familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I anticipated came true.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and since I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.