I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - David Bowie Made Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, several years before the renowned David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I publicly announced a gay woman. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had wed. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single mother of four, living in the United States.

At that time, I had started questioning both my gender identity and romantic inclinations, looking to find clarity.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I lacked access to Reddit or video sharing sites to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; conversely, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and in that decade, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

The Eurythmics singer donned boys' clothes, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and musical acts such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and precise cut, his defined jawline and male chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I reverted back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip back to the UK at the museum, with the expectation that possibly he could provide clarity.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was looking for when I entered the display - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, as a result, encounter a hint about my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had seen personally, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the confidence of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Relegated to the background, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the tedium of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, awkward hairpieces and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three men dressed in drag, one of them tore off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I wanted to rip it all off and transform like Bowie. I wanted his narrow hips and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a separate matter, but transitioning was a much more frightening possibility.

I required further time before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my skirts and dresses, shortened my locks and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, changed my stride, 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.

Once the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in Brooklyn, New York, following that period, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the issue didn't involve my attire, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been in costume since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. I needed further time before my personal journey finished, but none of the fears I feared materialized.

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 wanted the freedom to play with gender as Bowie had - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.