I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Made Me Uncover the Truth

During 2011, several years prior to the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single caregiver to four kids, making my home in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out understanding.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore male clothing, The flamboyant singer adopted women's fashion, and bands such as popular ensembles featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and flat chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender quite like David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, discover a insight into my true nature.

Before long I was standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, 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, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to remove everything and become Bowie too. I craved his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a significantly scarier possibility.

I required additional years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and commenced using masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized 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 anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.