I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - David Bowie Enabled Me to Uncover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single parent to four children, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward pop stars, and during the 80s, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore male clothing, The flamboyant singer embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, with the expectation that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know exactly what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, encounter a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a separate matter, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

I required additional years before I was willing. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I could.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional not long after. It took further time before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I can.