I Thought I Was a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Reality

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, living in the United States.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my friends and I were without online forums or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we looked to pop stars, and in that decade, artists were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My husband moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist played with gender quite like David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying 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. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a different challenge, but gender transition was a significantly scarier possibility.

It took me additional years before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the potential for denial and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in New York City, five years later, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. It took additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.