I Thought I Was a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Uncover the Actual Situation

In 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie display launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Previously, 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 US.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, seeking out answers.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my friends and I lacked access to online forums or digital content to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer adopted women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I wanted his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain exactly what I was looking for when I entered the display - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, stumble across a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping 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, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me further time before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I did my best to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and started wearing masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I can.