I Thought I Was a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Helped Me Discover the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie show debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in London, I came out as a homosexual woman. Until that moment, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself nearing forty-five, a freshly divorced mother of four, making my home in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, searching for answers.

Born in England during the early 1970s - before the internet. As teenagers, my companions and myself didn't have Reddit or YouTube to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; conversely, we sought guidance from pop stars, and throughout the eighties, artists were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore masculine attire, Boy George embraced girls' clothes, and pop groups such as Erasure and Bronski Beat featured artists who were openly gay.

I wanted his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I lived operating a motorcycle and adopting masculine styles, but I went back to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My husband transferred our home to the America in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an irresistible pull returning to the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, in turn, stumble across a clue to my true nature.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the front, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three accompanying performers wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these ladies didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and rolled their eyes at the boredom of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as awkward as I did in feminine attire - frustrated and eager, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Just as I understood I connected with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to shed all constraints and transform like Bowie. I desired his lean physique and his precise cut, his strong features and his male chest; I sought to become the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to truly become Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Announcing my identity as gay was one thing, but gender transition was a much more frightening outlook.

I required further time before I was willing. In the meantime, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and started wearing men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the potential for denial and regret had left me paralysed with fear.

Once the David Bowie display concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Positioned before the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my biological self. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional not long after. I needed further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I feared materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a homosexual male, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and since I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.