I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Reality

During 2011, several years ahead of the renowned David Bowie exhibition debuted at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, making my home in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, searching for answers.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to online forums or digital content to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we looked to celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were challenging gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned masculine attire, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I desired his narrow hips and precise cut, his strong features and flat chest. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband moved our family to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers in feminine attire gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to be over. Just as I realized I was identifying with three individuals presenting as female, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening prospect.

I needed several more years before I was ready. Meanwhile, I made every effort to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and adopted new identifiers, but I stopped short of surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and second thoughts had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the identical footage in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume since birth. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. The process required another few years before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I feared occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I sought the ability to experiment with identity as Bowie had - and since I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.