I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Discover the Truth

During 2011, several years prior to the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, living in the United States.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my companions and myself didn't have Reddit or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to pop stars, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and bands such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his slender frame and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a summer trip back to the UK at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my true nature.

I soon found myself positioned before a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Just as I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I wanted to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting outlook.

I required several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my skirts and dresses, cut off my hair and started wearing male attire.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be something I was not.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag all his life. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and now I realized that I could.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to explore expression as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.