I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Discover the Reality

In 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a homosexual 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 caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, searching for clarity.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself were without social platforms or video sharing sites to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, The flamboyant singer adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the museum, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I aimed to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I desired his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as gay was a separate matter, but transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a stint in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. It took another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.