I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Lesbian - David Bowie Enabled Me to Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a lesbian. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I were without social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported masculine attire, Boy George wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and male chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I entered the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had encountered in real life, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. And yet I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

I needed additional years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in New York City, five years later, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.