I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Truth

During 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a gay woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find clarity.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my companions and myself didn't have Reddit or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we looked to pop stars, and in that decade, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured artists who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know precisely what I was searching for when I entered the show - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of understanding 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 female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I wanted to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

I needed further time before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and started wearing men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I booked myself in to see a doctor soon after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.