I Believed I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Uncover the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a lesbian. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and sexual orientation, seeking out understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my friends and I were without social platforms or YouTube to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported masculine attire, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull returning to the masculinity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, hoping that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was searching for when I stepped inside the show - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my true nature.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium 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 connection for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - 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, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed further time before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the potential for denial and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.