I Was Convinced I Was a Homosexual Woman - The Legendary Artist Helped Me Realize the Truth

During 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a homosexual 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 recently separated mother of four, residing in the US.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my personal gender and attraction preferences, seeking out clarity.

I entered the world in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I were without online forums or YouTube to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and throughout the eighties, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported boys' clothes, Boy George embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

Throughout the 90s, I lived driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the male identity I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a seasonal visit returning to England at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I was uncertain exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, consequently, encounter a hint about my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself facing a modest display where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the performers I had encountered in real life, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and showed impatience at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I aimed to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I wanted his narrow hips and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his male chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Bowie's German period. And yet I couldn't, 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 considerably more daunting prospect.

I required several more years before I was willing. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie exhibition finished its world tour with a presentation in the American metropolis, following that period, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, performing under lights, and now I realized that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a physician not long after. I needed another few years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I maintain many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.