I Believed I Was a Gay Woman - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Actual Situation

During 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a gay woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced mother of four, living in the US.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself lacked access to Reddit or YouTube to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward music icons, and throughout the eighties, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned boys' clothes, Boy George wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his strong features and male chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a small television screen where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as awkward 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 removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and began donning male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor shortly afterwards. The process required further time before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I can.