I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Actual Situation

During 2011, a few years prior to the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay 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 parent to four children, residing in the America.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, searching for clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I were without online forums or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to pop stars, and in that decade, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned boys' clothes, Boy George adopted feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were publicly out.

I wanted his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull returning to the male identity I had once given up.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the V&A, anticipating that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain precisely what I was seeking when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, as a result, stumble across a clue to my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a small television screen where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, 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 removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as queer was one thing, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required several more years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I made every effort to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the chance of refusal and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, 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 desired to change into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician soon after. I needed additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.