I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Reality

During 2011, a couple of years before the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a gay woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the US.

During this period, I had started questioning both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself didn't have social platforms or YouTube to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and flat chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, discover a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Just as I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I wanted his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his flat chest; I sought to become 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 much more frightening outlook.

I needed several more years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before surgical procedures - the potential for denial and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional soon after. It took further time before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to explore expression as Bowie had - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.