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

During 2011, several years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had wed. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out answers.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my companions and myself were without online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from pop stars, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore male clothing, The flamboyant singer embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured members who were proudly homosexual.

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

During the nineties, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity 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 returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three backing singers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of natural performers; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

I required several more years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, 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 individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I can.