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

Back in 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a lesbian. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single parent to four children, living in the United States.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, looking to find answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my peers and I didn't have online forums or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; conversely, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, Boy George wore women's fashion, and bands such as popular ensembles featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and male chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Before long I was standing in front of a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the foreground, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to end. 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 showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I became completely convinced that I aimed to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I craved his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me further time before I was ready. Meanwhile, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and started wearing men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag all his life. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor shortly afterwards. It took another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to explore expression as Bowie had - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.