I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

Back in 2011, several years prior to the celebrated David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I came out as a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated parent to four children, making my home in the US.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, looking to find answers.

My birthplace was England during the dawn of the seventies era - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I were without online forums or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; conversely, we turned toward pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore feminine outfits, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I lived riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My spouse transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the exhibition - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these characters failed to move around the stage with the poise of born divas; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but transitioning was a significantly scarier outlook.

I required additional years before I was prepared. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my women's clothing, shortened my locks and began donning masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to explore expression as Bowie had - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.