I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Uncover the Reality

During 2011, a few years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated mother of four, living in the US.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, seeking out understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my peers and I were without social platforms or digital content to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and in that decade, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and bands such as well-known groups featured members who were publicly out.

I wanted his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw returning to the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the museum, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was looking for when I entered the display - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, stumble across a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening prospect.

I required additional years before I was ready. In the meantime, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. 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 became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.