I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the United States.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out answers.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I were without online forums or video sharing sites to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we looked to music icons, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, with the expectation that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, stumble across a hint about my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of born divas; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Precisely when 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! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

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

I required several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I made every effort to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, 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 knew for certain that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I anticipated materialized.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.