I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and attraction preferences, searching for understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I were without online forums or digital content to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I desired his lean physique and precise cut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the male identity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was searching for when I walked into the show - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a clue to my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I aimed to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

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

I required additional years before I was willing. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I halted before surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.