I Thought That I Identified As a Lesbian - David Bowie Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

In 2011, a few years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

At that time, I had started questioning both my personal gender and attraction preferences, searching for understanding.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my companions and myself lacked access to online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore male clothing, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and bands such as popular ensembles featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and male chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know precisely what I was searching for when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before 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 charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to end. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me further time before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at medical intervention - the potential for denial and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor soon after. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things 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 wanted the freedom to play with gender as Bowie had - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I can.