I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Discover the Actual Situation

During 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a lesbian. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had wed. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single caregiver to four kids, making my home in the US.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out answers.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I were without social platforms or video sharing sites to consult when we had questions about sex; rather, we turned toward music icons, and throughout the eighties, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced women's fashion, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and male chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, with the expectation that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, stumble across a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening possibility.

I required several more years before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and started wearing men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a engagement in New York City, five years later, 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 was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. I needed additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.