I Thought That I Identified As a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Realize the Reality

During 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a homosexual woman. Previously, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the US.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and attraction preferences, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - pre-world wide web. During our youth, my friends and I didn't have social platforms or video sharing sites to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward music icons, and in that decade, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

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

In that decade, I spent my time riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I didn't know precisely what I was searching for when I entered the exhibition - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, stumble across a insight into my own identity.

I soon found myself positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while to the side three supporting vocalists in feminine attire clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, ill-fitting wigs and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, 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, wiped the makeup from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I craved his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a much more frightening prospect.

I required several more years before I was willing. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the potential for denial and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a stint in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. It took additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I feared came true.

I continue to possess many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I can.