I Thought That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, several years prior to the renowned David Bowie show opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a lesbian. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single mother of four, residing in the America.

At that time, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - before the internet. During our youth, my peers and I were without Reddit or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw returning to the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had seen personally, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Just as I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as gay was a different challenge, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed further time before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and started wearing masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a presentation in New York City, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor not long after. I needed further time before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and since I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.