I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie show debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a gay woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, living in the United States.

During this period, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we sought guidance from pop stars, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, The Culture Club frontman adopted women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his lean physique and precise cut, his strong features and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Precisely when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I wanted his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as queer was one thing, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me additional years before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and started wearing male attire.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

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 an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. I needed further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I worried about occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I can.