I Believed Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Uncover the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a lesbian. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced mother of four, residing in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and sexual orientation, searching for understanding.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. As teenagers, my companions and myself were without Reddit or YouTube to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and precise cut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was searching for when I stepped inside the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a small television screen where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I wanted his slender frame and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I paused at medical intervention - the chance of refusal and remorse had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. It took additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to explore expression like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.