I Thought I Was a Lesbian - The Music Icon Made Me Realize the Truth

During 2011, several years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition launched at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced parent to four children, residing in the America.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, searching for answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I didn't have social platforms or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, musicians were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, The Culture Club frontman adopted feminine outfits, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were publicly out.

I craved his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his strong features and flat chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip back to the UK at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I didn't know specifically what I was searching for when I walked into the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, stumble across a insight into my true nature.

I soon found myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had seen personally, these characters failed to move around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. 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 sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They appeared to feel as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I wanted his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as queer was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a much more frightening outlook.

I required additional years before I was willing. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I stopped wearing makeup and discarded all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor not long after. It took another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the things I feared occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender as Bowie had - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.