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

During 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had wed. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single parent to four children, residing in the United States.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, searching for understanding.

Born in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I were without online forums or video sharing sites to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and flat chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip visiting Britain at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was facing a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while to the side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of born divas; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Just as I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a different challenge, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. I needed another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to explore expression following Bowie's example - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.