I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Realize the Actual Situation

During 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a gay woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, living in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I didn't have social platforms or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported male clothing, The Culture Club frontman embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My spouse transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip back to the UK at the gallery, anticipating that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening prospect.

I needed additional years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I made every effort to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag all his life. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I anticipated came true.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.