I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Truth

In 2011, a few years ahead of the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, making my home in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, searching for understanding.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or YouTube to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, The Culture Club frontman adopted girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I wanted his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and male chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was seeking when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, stumble across a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a small television screen where the music video for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to be over. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and emulate the artist. I craved his narrow hips and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required further time before I was prepared. In the meantime, I did my best to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and commenced using men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. 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 person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor not long after. The process required further time before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I anticipated came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.