I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Uncover the Actual Situation

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my friends and I didn't have social platforms or video sharing sites to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his strong features and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was looking for when I entered the display - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. The process required further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.