I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years before the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a lesbian. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced parent to four children, living in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, seeking out answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my companions and myself were without social platforms or digital content to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and male chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I walked into the display - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to remove everything and become Bowie too. I wanted his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier prospect.

I required additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I sat differently, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag all his life. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. It took another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.