I Believed That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie display debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, residing in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, looking to find answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My partner moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a summer trip back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to end. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I aimed to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

I required additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and commenced using masculine outfits.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.