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

During 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, residing in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my friends and I didn't have Reddit or digital content to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore women's fashion, and bands such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain exactly what I was looking for when I entered the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Just as I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I wanted his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a significantly scarier prospect.

I required further time before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, five years later, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. It took additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.