I Believed That I Identified As a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

During 2011, a couple of years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

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

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have Reddit or digital content to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and male chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw revisiting the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the display - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of born divas; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to end. At the moment when I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. 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 personal transformation was a much more frightening outlook.

I needed further time before I was willing. During that period, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a stint in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.