I Thought That I Identified As a Gay Woman - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Uncover the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I came out as a homosexual woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had wed. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated parent to four children, living in the United States.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and sexual orientation, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the beginning of the seventies - before the internet. During our youth, my friends and I lacked access to online forums or video sharing sites to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we sought guidance from music icons, and in that decade, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist wore male clothing, The Culture Club frontman embraced women's fashion, and musical acts such as popular ensembles featured members who were proudly homosexual.

I wanted his lean physique and precise cut, his strong features and masculine torso. I sought to become the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I passed my days driving a bike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I chose to get married. My partner transferred our home to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw returning to the manhood I had once given up.

Considering that no artist played with gender as dramatically as David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a warm-weather journey back to the UK at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I lacked clarity specifically what I was seeking when I stepped inside the exhibition - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, stumble across a insight into my personal self.

I soon found myself positioned before a compact monitor where the visual presentation for "Boys Keep Swinging" was playing on repeat. Bowie was moving with assurance in the primary position, looking polished in a dark grey suit, while to the side three backing singers dressed in drag gathered around a microphone.

Differing from the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals weren't sashaying around the stage with the confidence of inherent stars; rather they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the supporting artists, with their heavy makeup, awkward hairpieces and too-tight dresses.

They seemed to experience as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to conclude. At the moment when I realized I was identifying with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them tore off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Naturally, there were two other David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I knew for certain that I wanted to shed all constraints and become Bowie too. I craved his lean physique and his precise cut, his defined jawline and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, Berlin-era Bowie. And yet I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Declaring myself as homosexual was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier outlook.

I needed several more years before I was ready. During that period, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my skirts and dresses, trimmed my tresses and began donning masculine outfits.

I changed my seating posture, changed my stride, and modified my personal references, but I halted before hormonal treatment - the possibility of rejection and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a stint in New York City, five years later, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I knew for certain that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my body. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I aimed to transition into the individual in the stylish outfit, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I was able to.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional soon after. I needed another few years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I continue to possess many of my female characteristics, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I accept this. I desired the liberty to play with gender as Bowie had - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I have that capacity.