I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Discover the Reality

Back in 2011, a few years before the acclaimed David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and attraction preferences, looking to find understanding.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; instead, we looked to celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured members who were publicly out.

I wanted his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Just as I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

I needed further time before I was prepared. In the meantime, I did my best to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor not long after. The process required another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and since I'm content with my physical form, I can.