I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Actual Situation

During 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, searching for answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my friends and I were without online forums or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to music icons, and throughout the eighties, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned boys' clothes, Boy George adopted girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and male chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit returning to England at the gallery, with the expectation that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I entered the show - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, encounter a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of born divas; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I understood I connected 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! Shocker. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I aimed to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

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

It took me several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, five years later, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I anticipated materialized.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to play with gender like Bowie did - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.