I Believed That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a couple of years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a gay woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, including one I had wed. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out understanding.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have Reddit or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a summer trip back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know exactly what I was looking for when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Precisely when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I wanted his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. And yet I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

I required several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician soon after. It took further time before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.