I Believed That I Identified As a Gay Woman - David Bowie Helped Me Realize the Truth

Back in 2011, a few years ahead of the acclaimed David Bowie exhibition debuted at the renowned 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 entered matrimony with. After a couple of years, I found myself approaching middle age, a newly single mother of four, making my home in the United States.

During this period, I had started questioning both my personal gender and romantic inclinations, looking to find clarity.

My birthplace was England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my companions and myself lacked access to Reddit or digital content to consult when we had questions about sex; instead, we turned toward celebrity musicians, and during the 80s, artists were challenging gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned boys' clothes, Boy George wore feminine outfits, and bands such as popular ensembles featured artists who were proudly homosexual.

I craved his lean physique and defined hairstyle, his angular jaw and masculine torso. I wanted to embody the artist's German phase

Throughout the 90s, I spent my time driving a bike and wearing androgynous clothing, but I returned to femininity when I opted for marriage. My husband moved our family to the US in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an powerful draw back towards the manhood I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one experimented with identity quite like David Bowie, I decided to use some leisure time during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, hoping that perhaps he could guide my understanding.

I didn't know exactly what I was seeking when I walked into the display - possibly I anticipated that by losing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my personal self.

Before long I was facing a small television screen where the music video for "that track" was playing on repeat. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three backing singers dressed in drag clustered near a microphone.

Unlike the performers I had seen personally, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of born divas; conversely they looked bored and annoyed. Placed in secondary positions, they were chewing and expressed annoyance at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, apparently oblivious to their lack of enthusiasm. I felt a momentary pang of empathy for the backing singers, with their thick cosmetics, ill-fitting wigs and too-tight dresses.

They appeared to feel as awkward as I did in female clothing - annoyed and restless, as if they were hoping for it all to conclude. Precisely when I understood I connected 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! Revelation. (Naturally, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I became completely convinced that I desired to rip it all off and emulate the artist. I craved his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slim-silhouetted, artist's Berlin phase. However I was unable to, because to genuinely embody Bowie, first I would require being a man.

Coming out as homosexual was a separate matter, but personal transformation was a significantly scarier prospect.

It took me further time before I was prepared. In the meantime, I tried my hardest to adopt male characteristics: I abandoned beauty products and eliminated all my women's clothing, cut off my hair and began donning masculine outfits.

I sat differently, walked differently, and modified my personal references, but I paused at medical intervention - the chance of refusal and remorse had left me paralysed with fear.

When the David Bowie exhibition completed its global journey with a stint in New York City, five years later, I revisited. I had arrived at a crisis. I couldn't go on pretending to be something I was not.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge 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 since birth. I wanted to transform myself into the person in the polished attire, performing under lights, and then I comprehended that I could.

I made arrangements to see a doctor shortly afterwards. I needed further time before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated materialized.

I maintain many of my traditional womanly traits, so others regularly misinterpret me for a homosexual male, but I accept this. I wanted the freedom to experiment with identity following Bowie's example - and given that I'm at peace with myself, I am able to.