I Believed That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a couple of years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie display launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and attraction preferences, searching for understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my companions and myself were without Reddit or YouTube to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we sought guidance from pop stars, and in that decade, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My partner moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was looking for when I entered the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the film clip for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of natural performers; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the monotony 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 empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required further time before I was ready. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show concluded its international run 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 something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional soon after. It took further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I anticipated materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.