I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Truth

Back in 2011, several years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had married. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, making my home in the US.

During this period, I had started questioning both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, seeking out understanding.

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I were without social platforms or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman wore feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were publicly out.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and flat chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward 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 individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I aimed to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his strong features and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

It took me additional years before I was willing. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a engagement in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. The process required another few years before my transformation concluded, 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 homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.