I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Truth

In 2011, a few years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the US.

During this period, I had started questioning both my sense of self and attraction preferences, searching for answers.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I didn't have Reddit or digital content to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we looked to music icons, and in that decade, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore male clothing, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I entered the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, encounter a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while to the side three backing singers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had encountered in real life, these characters failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, 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, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a separate matter, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me further time before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in the American metropolis, five years later, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Facing the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue 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 in costume since birth. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I booked myself in to see a doctor not long after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.