I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - David Bowie Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

Back in 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie show debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, searching for clarity.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my companions and myself didn't have social platforms or video sharing sites to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported boys' clothes, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and precise cut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, hoping that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom 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 empathy for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, 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 hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I wanted his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

I needed additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing male attire.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated materialized.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I can.