I Believed Myself to Be a Gay Woman - David Bowie Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

Back in 2011, several years before the celebrated David Bowie display debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Previously, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated parent to four children, making my home in the America.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my friends and I didn't have social platforms or video sharing sites to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, with the expectation that maybe he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was one thing, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I needed several more years before I was willing. During that period, I made every effort to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and began donning men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor 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 female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to explore expression as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.