I Believed That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, living in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, searching for understanding.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we sought guidance from music icons, and in that decade, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned male clothing, The Culture Club frontman wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, with the expectation that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I entered the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, stumble across a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as queer was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening prospect.

It took me several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and commenced using masculine outfits.

I sat differently, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. I needed additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.