I Thought That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

In 2011, several years before the acclaimed David Bowie display opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, one of whom I had wed. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated mother of four, living in the United States.

At that time, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, searching for understanding.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my companions and myself were without social platforms or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; rather, we sought guidance from music icons, and throughout the eighties, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull returning to the masculinity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know exactly what I was searching for when I entered the show - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my own identity.

I soon found myself facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. At the moment when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I aimed to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier prospect.

It took me further time before I was ready. Meanwhile, I did my best to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at medical intervention - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. I needed further time before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I anticipated came true.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.