I Believed That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Realize the Truth

In 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single parent to four children, living in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and attraction preferences, looking to find understanding.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. When we were young, my peers and I were without online forums or digital content to turn to when we had questions about sex; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed 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 decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my true nature.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of born divas; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and emulate the artist. I craved his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. 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 transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

I required additional years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and began donning men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a stint in New York City, after half a decade, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor not long after. It took additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.