I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Actual Situation

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a gay woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

Born in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my friends and I lacked access to social platforms or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my true nature.

Before long I was standing in front of a small television screen where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Just as I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I craved his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a separate matter, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, 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 masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag all his life. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a physician soon after. The process required further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.