I Thought That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a couple of years prior to the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, residing in the US.

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

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my companions and myself lacked access to social platforms or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward pop stars, and in that decade, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore girls' clothes, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were openly gay.

I wanted his lean physique and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, hoping that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I walked into the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to be over. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his narrow hips and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

I required additional years before I was ready. In the meantime, I made every effort to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. The process required another few years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender as Bowie had - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.