I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Realize the Actual Situation

During 2011, a couple of years before the acclaimed David Bowie display opened at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a gay woman. Previously, I had only been with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, living in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, searching for answers.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. When we were young, my friends and I were without online forums or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported male clothing, The flamboyant singer wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were publicly out.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his defined jawline and male chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, hoping that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my own identity.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the film clip for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and emulate the artist. I wanted his narrow hips and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. And yet I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a presentation in the American metropolis, five years later, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I anticipated materialized.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.