I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Realize the Actual Situation

In 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, making my home in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and attraction preferences, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself were without online forums or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we sought guidance from pop stars, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned boys' clothes, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and male chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I aimed to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I craved his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening prospect.

It took me further time before I was willing. Meanwhile, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and began donning men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in New York City, after half a decade, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, 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 person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor not long after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.