I Thought Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced mother of four, living in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find clarity.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my friends and I lacked access to online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we looked to music icons, and in that decade, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and bands such as well-known groups featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and precise cut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had encountered in real life, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Just as I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed further time before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and began donning men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at medical intervention - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem 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 wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional soon after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I anticipated materialized.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.