I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Discover the Reality

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie show launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, making my home in the United States.

At that time, I had started questioning both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out understanding.

Born in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself lacked access to social platforms or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and male chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull returning to the masculinity I had once given up.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I entered the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, stumble across a insight into my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening outlook.

I required additional years before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I booked myself in to see a doctor not long after. It took another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender like Bowie did - and since I'm content with my physical form, I can.