I Believed Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Uncover the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and attraction preferences, seeking out answers.

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or digital content to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from music icons, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, The Culture Club frontman wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured artists who were publicly out.

I desired his lean physique and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I lived driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull returning to the male identity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, with the expectation that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I walked into the show - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, discover a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a small television screen where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Just as I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting outlook.

It took me additional years before I was ready. In the meantime, I made every effort to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the potential for denial and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

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

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor not long after. It took another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.