I Believed I Was a Lesbian - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years before the celebrated David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated parent to four children, making my home in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, seeking out answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - before the internet. During our youth, my peers and I didn't have social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and throughout the eighties, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported masculine attire, Boy George adopted women's fashion, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were openly gay.

I craved his lean physique and precise cut, his angular jaw and male chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was searching for when I entered the exhibition - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a modest display where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had encountered in real life, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to be over. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a separate matter, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required further time before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I worried about came true.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to explore expression like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.