I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Realize the Reality

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie show launched at the famous Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I publicly announced a lesbian. Up to that point, I had only been with men, including one I had entered matrimony with. By 2013, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated caregiver to four kids, living in the America.

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

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - before the internet. During our youth, my companions and myself lacked access to social platforms or YouTube to consult when we had inquiries regarding sexuality; rather, we looked to music icons, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox sported masculine attire, The flamboyant singer embraced feminine outfits, and bands such as well-known groups featured performers who were publicly out.

I wanted his narrow hips and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I aimed to personify the Bowie's Berlin period

In that decade, I passed my days riding a motorbike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to traditional womanhood when I decided to wed. My husband relocated us to the US in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an powerful draw returning to the manhood I had earlier relinquished.

Considering that no artist experimented with identity to the extent of David Bowie, I chose to devote an open day during a seasonal visit back to the UK at the museum, anticipating that possibly he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain specifically what I was seeking when I entered the show - maybe I thought that by submerging my consciousness in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, as a result, encounter a hint about my true nature.

I soon found myself positioned before a small television screen where the film clip for "the iconic song" was recurring endlessly. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a dark grey suit, while off to one side three accompanying performers in feminine attire crowded round a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had encountered in real life, these characters weren't sashaying around the stage with the poise of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Positioned as supporting acts, they had gum in their mouths and showed impatience at the monotony of it all.

"Those words, boys always work it out," Bowie sang cheerfully, seemingly unaware to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the accompanying performers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and constricting garments.

They seemed to experience as awkward as I did in female clothing - frustrated and eager, as if they were hoping for it all to be over. Precisely when I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them removed her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and showed herself to be ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to remove everything and emulate the artist. I desired his lean physique and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I aimed to personify the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. Nevertheless I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as gay was a different challenge, but personal transformation was a much more frightening possibility.

I required several more years before I was willing. Meanwhile, I tried my hardest to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, cut off my hair and commenced using male attire.

I changed my seating posture, walked differently, and changed my name and pronouns, but I stopped short of medical intervention - the potential for denial and remorse had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie display completed its global journey with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, after half a decade, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I was unable to continue acting to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the same video in 2018, I became completely convinced that the problem wasn't my clothes, it was my body. I wasn't simply a tomboy; I was a male with feminine qualities who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and at that moment I understood that I was able to.

I booked myself in to see a medical professional shortly afterwards. I needed further time before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about materialized.

I still have many of my traditional womanly traits, so people often mistake me for a homosexual male, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to explore expression following Bowie's example - and now that I'm content with my physical form, I am able to.