I Believed I Was a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Previously, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single mother of four, living in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself were without Reddit or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we looked to pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, Boy George embraced feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were openly gay.

I wanted his lean physique and sharp haircut, his strong features and male chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I entered the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was facing a modest display where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I aimed to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. However I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier possibility.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and began donning men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

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

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor soon after. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I feared materialized.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.