I Was Convinced I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Reality

During 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, residing in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore feminine outfits, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his strong features and male chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My spouse moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, stumble across a insight into my true nature.

I soon found myself facing a compact monitor where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his male chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. However I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier possibility.

It took me several more years before I was ready. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the potential for denial and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag since birth. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.