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

Back in 2011, a couple of years before the celebrated David Bowie show debuted at the prestigious Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I declared myself a lesbian. Previously, I had solely pursued relationships with men, one of whom I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a newly single mother of four, living in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and romantic inclinations, seeking out understanding.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. During our youth, my peers and I didn't have online forums or digital content to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to pop stars, and in that decade, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported boys' clothes, The flamboyant singer embraced girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured artists who were openly gay.

I desired his slender frame and precise cut, his strong features and male chest. I sought to become the Berlin-era Bowie

During the nineties, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the US in 2007, but when the marriage ended I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody challenged norms as dramatically as David Bowie, I chose to use some leisure time during a seasonal visit returning to England at the gallery, hoping that possibly he could guide my understanding.

I lacked clarity exactly what I was looking for when I stepped inside the show - maybe I thought that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, encounter a insight into my personal self.

Before long I was facing a compact monitor where the film clip for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the foreground, looking polished in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the performers I had witnessed firsthand, these characters didn't glide around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Placed in secondary positions, 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 diminished energy. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the supporting artists, with their thick cosmetics, awkward hairpieces and restrictive outfits.

They seemed to experience as uncomfortable as I did in feminine attire - annoyed and restless, as if they were yearning for it all to conclude. Precisely when I understood I connected with three individuals presenting as female, one of them removed her wig, wiped the makeup from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, Bowie's German period. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Announcing my identity as homosexual was a separate matter, but gender transition was a much more frightening possibility.

I required further time before I was ready. During that period, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and eliminated all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and started wearing masculine outfits.

I sat differently, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at hormonal treatment - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I revisited. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my biological self. I didn't identify as a butch female; I was a feminine man who'd been in costume since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the man in the sharp suit, moving in the illumination, and now I realized that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a physician shortly afterwards. The process required additional years before my transition was complete, but not a single concern I feared came true.

I maintain many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a gay man, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I have that capacity.