I Thought I Was a Lesbian - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Uncover the Actual Situation

During 2011, several years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a lesbian. Previously, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single caregiver to four kids, residing in the United States.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and sexual orientation, seeking out answers.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my peers and I were without social platforms or YouTube to turn to when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his narrow hips and precise cut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the museum, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was seeking when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a insight into my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of empathy for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. And yet I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as gay was a separate matter, but gender transition was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me several more years before I was willing. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning male attire.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

After the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a stint in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag all his life. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician soon after. It took another few years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.