I Was Convinced I Was a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated parent to four children, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, searching for understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my friends and I were without Reddit or digital content to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the gallery, with the expectation that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was looking for when I walked into the display - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. 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 personal transformation was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me further time before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and began donning men's clothes.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I anticipated came true.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.