I Thought Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Truth

In 2011, a few years before the renowned David Bowie display launched at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a gay woman. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

At that time, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my friends and I lacked access to online forums or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; instead, we sought guidance from celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was experimenting with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his strong features and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived riding a motorbike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My partner moved our family to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction returning to the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey returning to England at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know specifically what I was looking for when I entered the display - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my personal self.

I soon found myself facing a modest display where the music video for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the foreground, looking polished in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three backing singers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had encountered in real life, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the poise of natural performers; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie voiced happily, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Revelation. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I aimed to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his masculine torso; I aimed to personify the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. Nevertheless I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was one thing, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

I required further time before I was willing. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the potential for denial and second thoughts had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

When the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had reached a breaking point. I couldn't go on pretending to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

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

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity like Bowie did - and given that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.