I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Discover the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie show debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have online forums or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; rather, we turned toward pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore masculine attire, The flamboyant singer wore women's fashion, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and male chest. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My partner moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, hoping that possibly he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, discover a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the music video for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of inherent stars; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I aimed to remove everything and become Bowie too. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as queer was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. It took another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.