I Was Convinced Myself to Be a Gay Woman - The Legendary Artist Made Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years ahead of the celebrated David Bowie exhibition debuted at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in England, I declared myself a lesbian. Until that moment, I had exclusively dated men, including one I had married. Two years later, I found myself approaching middle age, a recently separated mother of four, living in the America.

At that time, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and sexual orientation, searching for clarity.

Born in England during the dawn of the seventies era - pre-world wide web. When we were young, my peers and I were without online forums or YouTube to reference when we had questions about sex; rather, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were playing with gender norms.

The iconic vocalist sported male clothing, The flamboyant singer adopted girls' clothes, and musical acts such as well-known groups featured members who were openly gay.

I wanted his lean physique and precise cut, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I sought to become the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and dressing like a tomboy, but I returned to conventional female presentation when I chose to get married. My husband relocated us to the America in 2007, but when the union collapsed I felt an irresistible pull back towards the masculinity I had earlier relinquished.

Since nobody experimented with identity as dramatically as David Bowie, I decided to spend a free afternoon during a seasonal visit returning to England at the gallery, hoping that maybe he could provide clarity.

I was uncertain exactly what I was searching for when I stepped inside the show - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the extravagance of Bowie's identity exploration, I might, in turn, stumble across a hint about my personal self.

Before long I was positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was playing on repeat. Bowie was strutting his stuff in the primary position, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while off to one side three backing singers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these ladies failed to move around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; conversely they looked disinterested and irritated. Relegated to the background, they were chewing and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"The song's lyrics, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their reduced excitement. I felt a fleeting feeling of connection for the backing singers, with their pronounced make-up, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in women's clothes - annoyed and restless, as if they were longing for it all to end. At the moment when I recognized my alignment with three male performers in feminine attire, one of them ripped off her wig, smeared the lipstick from her face, and unveiled herself as ... Bowie! Surprise. (Understandably, there were additional David Bowies as well.)

In that instant, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and become Bowie too. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and his male chest; I sought to become the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would have to become a man.

Coming out as gay was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a much more frightening outlook.

I required further time before I was ready. During that period, I did my best to embrace manhood: I abandoned beauty products and threw away all my feminine garments, shortened my locks and commenced using men's clothes.

I changed my seating posture, modified my gait, and adopted new identifiers, but I paused at surgical procedures - the chance of refusal and regret had caused me to freeze with apprehension.

After the David Bowie exhibition concluded its international run with a engagement in Brooklyn, New York, five years later, I went back. I had reached a breaking point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be a person I wasn't.

Positioned before the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't my clothes, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a man with gentle characteristics who'd been presenting artificially since birth. I desired to change into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and at that moment I understood that I could.

I made arrangements to see a physician not long after. I needed additional years before my personal journey finished, but not a single concern I worried about occurred.

I still have many of my female characteristics, so individuals frequently misidentify me for a gay man, but I'm OK with that. I desired the liberty to explore expression as Bowie had - and since I'm at peace with myself, I have that capacity.