I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Homosexual Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Discover the Truth

During 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie display opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself 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 in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, making my home in the America.

During this period, I had started questioning both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, looking to find understanding.

My birthplace was England during the beginning of the seventies - prior to digital connectivity. When we were young, my peers and I were without Reddit or YouTube to turn to when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, everyone was challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman wore girls' clothes, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured performers who were proudly homosexual.

I desired his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the artist's German phase

In that decade, I passed my days driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to femininity when I decided to wed. My partner relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an undeniable attraction revisiting the manhood I had once given up.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I decided to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey visiting Britain at the gallery, hoping that perhaps he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I walked into the exhibition - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the richness of Bowie's gender experimentation, I might, consequently, discover a hint about my own identity.

Before long I was facing a modest display where the film clip for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking stylish in a slate-colored ensemble, while to the side three supporting vocalists wearing women's clothing crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had seen personally, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the poise of born divas; conversely they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and constricting garments.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to be over. Precisely when 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 revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Revelation. (Of course, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I was absolutely sure that I aimed to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I wanted his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. However I found myself incapable, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was one thing, but gender transition was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed several more years before I was prepared. In the meantime, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and discarded all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and began donning men's clothes.

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

After 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 found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the problem didn't involve my attire, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been wearing drag all his life. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. The process required additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I feared materialized.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to explore expression like Bowie did - and since I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.