I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and male chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip back to the UK at the gallery, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the confidence of born divas; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

I needed additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. The process required another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I can.