I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Truth

During 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie show debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single mother of four, residing in the America.

At that time, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or YouTube to turn to when we had questions about sex; instead, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer wore girls' clothes, and bands such as well-known groups featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I lived riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I chose to get married. My partner transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had once given up.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a modest display where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as queer was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier prospect.

I required several more years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before medical intervention - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a stint in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. It took further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.