I Believed That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Truth

During 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the prestigious 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 approaching middle age, a newly single parent to four children, living in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and attraction preferences, searching for answers.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore boys' clothes, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and bands such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to femininity when I chose to get married. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, hoping that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I entered the exhibition - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, stumble across a hint about my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Just as I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but transitioning was a significantly scarier prospect.

I needed additional years before I was ready. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume all his life. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor soon after. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.