I Was Convinced I Was a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Realize the Reality

During 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie show launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

During this period, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, searching for answers.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my companions and myself were without Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull returning to the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was searching for when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three backing singers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I craved his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but transitioning was a significantly scarier prospect.

I needed further time before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and commenced using male attire.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a physician shortly afterwards. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to explore expression following Bowie's example - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.