I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, several years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the United States.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - before the internet. When we were young, my peers and I didn't have online forums or YouTube to turn to when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported male clothing, The flamboyant singer embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I craved his lean physique and sharp haircut, his strong features and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I passed my days riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw back towards the masculinity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain precisely what I was looking for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the richness of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, encounter a clue to my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three backing singers in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of born divas; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as homosexual was one thing, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

I required several more years before I was prepared. Meanwhile, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before medical intervention - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor soon after. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I anticipated came true.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.