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

During 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie show debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced parent to four children, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, searching for clarity.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself lacked access to Reddit or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured performers who were publicly out.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I lived operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My spouse moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the V&A, hoping that possibly he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I entered the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three backing singers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these characters failed to move around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

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 be over. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as queer was a different challenge, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting possibility.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. I needed additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.