I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Realize the Actual Situation

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had wed. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, residing in the America.

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

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we looked to music icons, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his lean physique and precise cut, his angular jaw and male chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My spouse moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit returning to England at the museum, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, stumble across a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed further time before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. It took further time before my transition was complete, but none of the things I worried about came true.

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