I Thought Myself to Be a Lesbian - David Bowie Helped Me Discover the Truth

During 2011, a few years before the renowned David Bowie display debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had entered matrimony with. Two years later, I found myself nearing forty-five, a recently separated parent to four children, residing in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my gender identity and attraction preferences, looking to find clarity.

I entered the world in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my friends and I lacked access to social platforms or digital content to reference when we had curiosities about intimacy; instead, we looked to pop stars, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman embraced women's fashion, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his strong features and male chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I lived riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I went back to conventional female presentation when I decided to wed. My husband transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the male identity I had once given up.

Since nobody experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit returning to England at the museum, with the expectation that perhaps he could help me figure it out.

I didn't know precisely what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by submerging my consciousness in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my true nature.

Before long I was facing a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while positioned laterally three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had seen personally, these ladies weren't sashaying around the stage with the self-assurance 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 tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I wanted to shed all constraints and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his sharp haircut, his strong features and his flat chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, Berlin-era Bowie. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but gender transition was a much more frightening outlook.

It took me further time before I was prepared. During that period, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and began donning male attire.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie show completed its global journey with a presentation in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge didn't involve my attire, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I had the capacity to.

I made arrangements to see a doctor shortly afterwards. The process required further time before my transition was complete, but none of the fears I feared came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I wanted the freedom to explore expression like Bowie did - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I am able to.