I Believed I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Truth

In 2011, several years before the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated mother of four, living in the US.

At that time, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, searching for understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore masculine attire, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and bands such as well-known groups featured members who were publicly out.

I desired his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to femininity when I decided to wed. My partner relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the V&A, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain precisely what I was looking for when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three backing singers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had seen personally, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. At the moment 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.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier possibility.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume all his life. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor soon after. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I worried about occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.