I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Realize the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie display opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find answers.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, The flamboyant singer adopted women's fashion, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his narrow hips and precise cut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was looking for when I entered the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my true nature.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of natural performers; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I craved his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. However I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I needed additional years before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. I needed another few years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to explore expression as Bowie had - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.