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

Back in 2011, a few years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single parent to four children, living in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my peers and I were without Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; conversely, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore male clothing, Boy George wore women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his angular jaw and male chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My partner relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit visiting Britain at the museum, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Just as I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to truly become Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

I needed several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a presentation in the American metropolis, five years later, I went back. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem 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 man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a doctor shortly afterwards. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the things I anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I wanted the freedom to explore expression like Bowie did - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.