I Was Convinced I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Uncover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the renowned David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my sense of self and attraction preferences, looking to find clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have Reddit or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we turned toward music icons, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned male clothing, The flamboyant singer wore women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was looking for when I entered the display - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my true nature.

Before long I was facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

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

It took me several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.