I Was Convinced I Was a Lesbian - The Music Icon Enabled Me to Realize the Actual Situation

Back in 2011, a couple of years prior to the renowned David Bowie exhibition launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a gay woman. Up to that point, I had only been with men, one of whom I had married. By 2013, I found myself nearing forty-five, a newly single mother of four, residing in the America.

During this period, I had commenced examining both my sense of self and sexual orientation, seeking out clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. When we were young, my companions and myself were without Reddit or video sharing sites to consult when we had curiosities about intimacy; rather, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, artists were experimenting with gender norms.

Annie Lennox wore masculine attire, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and pop groups such as popular ensembles featured performers who were openly gay.

I craved his narrow hips and precise cut, his defined jawline and male chest. I wanted to embody the Berlin-era Bowie

In that decade, I spent my time riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I reverted back to femininity when I decided to wed. My spouse relocated us to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had once given up.

Since nobody challenged norms quite like David Bowie, I opted to spend a free afternoon during a summer trip returning to England at the gallery, with the expectation that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain precisely what I was looking for when I walked into the display - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, stumble across a insight into my personal self.

Quickly I discovered myself standing in front of a small television screen where the visual presentation for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was moving with assurance in the front, looking sharp in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three supporting vocalists dressed in drag crowded round a microphone.

Differing from the entertainers I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; rather they looked bored and annoyed. Positioned as supporting acts, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a fleeting feeling of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and too-tight dresses.

They gave the impression of as uncomfortable as I did in women's clothes - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to end. Precisely when I understood I connected with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

Right then, I knew for certain that I aimed to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I desired his narrow hips and his precise cut, his angular jaw and his flat chest; I sought to become the lean-figured, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I couldn't, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Declaring myself as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier possibility.

I needed several more years before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to adopt male characteristics: I ceased using cosmetics and discarded all my women's clothing, trimmed my tresses and commenced using men's clothes.

I sat differently, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I halted before medical intervention - the potential for denial and second thoughts had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a stint in the American metropolis, after half a decade, I went back. I had arrived at a crisis. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Facing the same video in 2018, I was absolutely sure that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been wearing drag since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I was able to.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my transformation concluded, but not a single concern I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a gay man, but I'm comfortable with that outcome. I desired the liberty to play with gender as Bowie had - and now that I'm at peace with myself, I can.