I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, several years before the acclaimed David Bowie display launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, residing in the US.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, searching for answers.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from pop stars, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore male clothing, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and bands such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the museum, hoping that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I walked into the show - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of 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 realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

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

It took me several more years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and started wearing masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional not long after. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.