I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Discover the Reality

In 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single parent to four children, residing in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my friends and I were without Reddit or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; rather, we turned toward music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman wore feminine outfits, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, with the expectation that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity precisely what I was searching for when I entered the show - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a modest display where the music video for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

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

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to end. Just as I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I desired to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a much more frightening outlook.

I required additional years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and started wearing male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. 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 became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor shortly afterwards. I needed another few years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I feared came true.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, 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 have that capacity.