I Believed Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Uncover the Actual Situation

In 2011, a few years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the US.

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

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my friends and I didn't have online forums or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward pop stars, and throughout the eighties, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my own identity.

I soon found myself positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Just as I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was one thing, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting possibility.

I needed additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional soon after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.