I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Reality

During 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single parent to four children, residing in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, artists were playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, Boy George wore women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the gallery, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself positioned before a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting possibility.

I required further time before I was ready. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a stint in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure 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 throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. I needed further time before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared 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 desired the liberty to explore expression following Bowie's example - and since I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.