I Believed That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had wed. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the United States.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, searching for answers.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I were without social platforms or digital content to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we looked to pop stars, and throughout the eighties, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman wore girls' clothes, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were publicly out.

I desired his narrow hips and precise cut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the museum, with the expectation that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was searching for when I walked into the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, encounter a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

I required additional years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a stint in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag all his life. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor shortly afterwards. I needed further time before my transition was complete, but none of the things I feared occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.