I Believed I Was a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Uncover the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced parent to four children, residing in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, seeking out understanding.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my peers and I didn't have online forums or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we turned toward music icons, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, encounter a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to be over. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I aimed to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was one thing, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier possibility.

It took me several more years before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a engagement in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized 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 anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.