I Thought I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had wed. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

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

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my companions and myself didn't have social platforms or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore male clothing, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and bands such as well-known groups featured performers who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, hoping that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I craved his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a different challenge, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting outlook.

It took me several more years before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing male attire.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. 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 booked myself in to see a doctor soon after. It took further time before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.