I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Uncover the Reality

During 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, with one partner I had wed. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the US.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my personal gender and sexual orientation, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my friends and I didn't have online forums or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer wore boys' clothes, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I craved his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and male chest. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the masculinity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the V&A, anticipating that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the show - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a insight into my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the film clip for "that track" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of inherent stars; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. At the moment when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I craved his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Bowie's German period. However I was unable to, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was one thing, but transitioning was a much more frightening outlook.

I needed several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and commenced using men's clothes.

I altered how I sat, modified my gait, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

Once the David Bowie show concluded its international run with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I booked myself in to see a doctor soon after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.