I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated parent to four children, making my home in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, looking to find answers.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we turned toward pop stars, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and flat chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My partner moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, with the expectation that maybe he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a small television screen where the film clip for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three backing singers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was one thing, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting prospect.

It took me further time before I was willing. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I halted before surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to play with gender as Bowie had - and since I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.