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

In 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie show launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single parent to four children, residing in the United States.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I were without online forums or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we turned toward music icons, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore feminine outfits, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and flat chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip back to the UK at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was searching for when I stepped inside the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the music video for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had seen personally, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Just as I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I wanted his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as queer was one thing, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me additional years before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag 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 booked myself in to see a physician soon after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I anticipated occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.