I Thought That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Enabled Me to Uncover the Truth

In 2011, a few years before the celebrated David Bowie show launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, making my home in the United States.

At that time, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my friends and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to consult when we had questions about sex; rather, we turned toward pop stars, and throughout the eighties, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, The flamboyant singer embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his strong features and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, hoping that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I entered the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, discover a clue to my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these characters failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; rather they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the supporting artists, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Just as I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I wanted his slender frame and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed additional years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and threw away all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning men's clothes.

I sat differently, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at medical intervention - the potential for denial and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, 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 same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. It took further time before my transition was complete, but none of the things I feared occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.