I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Uncover the Reality

In 2011, a few years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a freshly divorced caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, searching for clarity.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my friends and I were without social platforms or digital content to turn to when we had questions about sex; instead, we looked to celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned male clothing, The Culture Club frontman embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I opted for marriage. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the museum, hoping that possibly he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my own identity.

I soon found myself positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of born divas; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I desired to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I wanted his slender frame and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his male chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. However I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a significantly scarier prospect.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I did my best to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie show finished its world tour with a stint in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician soon after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and since I'm at peace with myself, I can.