I Believed Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Realize the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my friends and I were without social platforms or YouTube to turn to when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, Boy George embraced feminine outfits, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender quite like David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, hoping that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know exactly what I was searching for when I walked into the display - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, encounter a hint about my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting possibility.

I required further time before I was prepared. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a stint in New York City, five years later, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor shortly afterwards. The process required further time before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.