I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Realize the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years ahead of the renowned David Bowie display opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself lacked access to Reddit or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, musicians were challenging gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned boys' clothes, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were publicly out.

I wanted his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

During the nineties, I lived driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that maybe he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know precisely what I was looking for when I entered the show - possibly I anticipated that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, discover a hint about my own identity.

I soon found myself standing in front of a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I craved his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a different challenge, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

It took me additional years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at medical intervention - the potential for denial and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I desired to change into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician shortly afterwards. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I anticipated came true.

I continue to possess many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.