I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a gay woman. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, including one I had wed. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated parent to four children, residing in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to Reddit or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman adopted women's fashion, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his narrow hips and precise cut, his angular jaw and male chest. I sought to become the artist's German phase

In that decade, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull returning to the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, hoping that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was seeking when I entered the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of born divas; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to end. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I wanted to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

I required additional years before I was willing. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. It took additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I worried about materialized.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression as Bowie had - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.