I Thought I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Truth

During 2011, a few years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Previously, I had only been with men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

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

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my companions and myself didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, musicians were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported male clothing, The Culture Club frontman embraced women's fashion, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself facing a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I craved his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his masculine torso; I sought to become the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a much more frightening possibility.

I needed additional years before I was willing. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

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

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume all his life. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. I needed another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression as Bowie had - and since I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.