I Thought I Was a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Uncover the Truth

Back in 2011, several years prior to the renowned David Bowie display launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, making my home in the US.

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

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and flat chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My partner transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the masculinity I had once given up.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was looking for when I entered the show - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was standing in front of a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had seen personally, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and emulate the artist. I craved his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was one thing, but personal transformation was a much more frightening outlook.

I required additional years before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Positioned before the identical footage 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 presenting artificially since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician shortly afterwards. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.