I Thought I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Truth

During 2011, a few years prior to the acclaimed David Bowie display launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

At that time, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and attraction preferences, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my friends and I didn't have online forums or digital content to reference when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore male clothing, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and bands such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured members who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and precise cut, his angular jaw and flat chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Given that no one played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, hoping that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was looking for when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my true nature.

Before long I was positioned before a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three backing singers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Placed in secondary positions, they had gum in their mouths and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and become Bowie too. I desired his slender frame and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I couldn't, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a different challenge, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

I needed further time before I was ready. Meanwhile, I did my best to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and threw away all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and started wearing men's clothes.

I sat differently, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I halted before medical intervention - the potential for denial and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I aimed to transition into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. The process required another few years before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I worried about materialized.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender like Bowie did - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.