I Believed Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Made Me Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had married. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced mother of four, living in the US.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out clarity.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my companions and myself were without online forums or video sharing sites to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and flat chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, stumble across a insight into my own identity.

I soon found myself facing a modest display where the music video for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had seen personally, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting 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 be over. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as queer was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

It took me additional years before I was ready. During that period, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and began donning male attire.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I could.

I booked myself in to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I feared materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.