I Believed Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Uncover the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a freshly divorced parent to four children, living in the United States.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, searching for answers.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - pre-world wide web. As teenagers, my friends and I were without Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had questions about sex; rather, we looked to music icons, and throughout the eighties, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were openly gay.

I wanted his narrow hips and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I lived operating a motorcycle and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My spouse transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that possibly he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain specifically what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, discover a clue to my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the film clip for "that track" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the poise of natural performers; instead they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. Just as I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I aimed to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I wanted his lean physique and his sharp haircut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. However I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Announcing my identity as queer was a separate matter, but transitioning was a considerably more daunting possibility.

It took me further time before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

When the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a stint in the American metropolis, five years later, I revisited. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a physician shortly afterwards. The process required additional years before my personal journey finished, but none of the things I anticipated came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender as Bowie had - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.