I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the renowned David Bowie exhibition opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Previously, I had only been with men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the US.

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

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore masculine attire, Boy George adopted girls' clothes, and bands such as well-known groups featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and male chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an powerful draw back towards the masculinity I had once given up.

Since nobody played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to use some leisure time during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the V&A, with the expectation that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was seeking when I entered the show - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, stumble across a hint about my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their diminished energy. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three individuals presenting as female, one of them tore off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I was absolutely sure that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I wanted his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening possibility.

I required additional years before I was willing. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume throughout his existence. I desired to change into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor not long after. It took additional years before my transition was complete, but none of the things I worried about came true.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.