I Believed Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Reality

During 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie display opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I declared myself a lesbian. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had wed. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated mother of four, living in the US.

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

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, Boy George wore women's fashion, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his defined jawline and male chest. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My spouse moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull returning to the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the display - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, encounter a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the visual presentation for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of connection for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at medical intervention - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a medical professional not long after. It took further time before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I feared came true.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.