I Believed That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, several years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition opened at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a lesbian. Previously, I had exclusively dated men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, residing in the US.

During this period, I had begun to doubt both my gender identity and attraction preferences, seeking out answers.

I entered the world in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself were without Reddit or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and in that decade, everyone was playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist donned masculine attire, Boy George wore girls' clothes, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured performers who were openly gay.

I wanted his slender frame and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

Throughout the 90s, I passed my days riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My partner transferred our home to the United States in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an irresistible pull back towards the male identity I had earlier relinquished.

Given that no one challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a summer trip visiting Britain at the gallery, anticipating that possibly he could provide clarity.

I didn't know exactly what I was searching for when I stepped inside the show - perhaps I hoped that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, encounter a clue to my own identity.

Before long I was positioned before a modest display where the film clip for "Boys Keep Swinging" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the primary position, looking sharp in a slate-colored ensemble, while positioned laterally three accompanying performers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

In contrast to the entertainers I had encountered in real life, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; instead they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they chewed gum and expressed annoyance at the boredom of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, appearing ignorant to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of connection for the backing singers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - irritated and impatient, as if they were longing for it all to be over. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I wanted his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his masculine torso; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I found myself incapable, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a considerably more daunting outlook.

It took me several more years before I was prepared. During that period, I tried my hardest to become more masculine: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and commenced using male attire.

I sat differently, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at medical intervention - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in New York City, after half a decade, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Facing the identical footage in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been wearing drag throughout his existence. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. The process required another few years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I worried about came true.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender as Bowie had - and now that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.