I Was Convinced I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Discover the Truth

In 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

Born in England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or digital content to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward pop stars, and in that decade, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore boys' clothes, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were publicly out.

I desired his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and flat chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, encounter a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was standing in front of a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while to the side three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Just as I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I wanted to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his slender frame and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a different challenge, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I needed further time before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a presentation in New York City, five years later, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I knew for certain that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician shortly afterwards. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared materialized.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.