I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, several years before the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, living in the United States.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and sexual orientation, looking to find understanding.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my friends and I were without online forums or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward pop stars, and in that decade, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the gallery, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I wanted to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and commenced using masculine outfits.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I halted before medical intervention - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor not long after. The process required further time before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I can.