I Was Convinced That I Identified As a Lesbian - The Music Icon Helped Me Uncover the Truth

In 2011, a couple of years prior to the celebrated David Bowie display opened at the renowned Victoria and Albert Museum in the UK capital, I publicly announced a lesbian. Until that moment, I had solely pursued relationships with men, with one partner I had married. Two years later, I found myself in my early 40s, a recently separated parent to four children, residing in the America.

Throughout this phase, I had begun to doubt both my sense of self and attraction preferences, looking to find answers.

Born in England during the early 1970s - prior to digital connectivity. As teenagers, my peers and I lacked access to social platforms or video sharing sites to reference when we had questions about sex; conversely, we sought guidance from pop stars, and throughout the eighties, musicians were playing with gender norms.

Annie Lennox donned boys' clothes, The Culture Club frontman adopted women's fashion, and pop groups such as well-known groups featured artists who were publicly out.

I craved his lean physique and sharp haircut, his angular jaw and male chest. I wanted to embody the Bowie's Berlin period

During the nineties, I lived riding a motorbike and adopting masculine styles, but I returned to femininity when I chose to get married. My spouse relocated us to the United States in 2007, but when our relationship dissolved I felt an undeniable attraction back towards the male identity I had previously abandoned.

Given that no one challenged norms to the extent of David Bowie, I opted to devote an open day during a summer trip returning to England at the V&A, hoping that maybe he could help me figure it out.

I was uncertain precisely what I was searching for when I stepped inside the display - perhaps I hoped that by immersing myself in the opulence of Bowie's norm-challenging expression, I might, consequently, discover a clue to my own identity.

Quickly I discovered myself positioned before a compact monitor where the music video for "the iconic song" was continuously looping. Bowie was performing confidently in the front, looking stylish in a charcoal outfit, while positioned laterally three backing singers wearing women's clothing gathered around a microphone.

In contrast to the drag queens I had witnessed firsthand, these female-presenting individuals didn't glide around the stage with the self-assurance of natural performers; instead they looked unenthused and frustrated. Positioned as supporting acts, they chewed gum and showed impatience at the tedium of it all.

"Boys keep swinging, boys always work it out," Bowie performed brightly, seemingly unaware to their reduced excitement. I felt a brief sensation of understanding for the accompanying performers, with their heavy makeup, uncomfortable wigs and restrictive outfits.

They gave the impression of as ill-at-ease as I did in female clothing - irritated and impatient, as if they were yearning for it all to end. Just as I realized I was identifying with three men dressed in drag, one of them ripped off her wig, removed the cosmetics from her face, and revealed herself to be ... Bowie! Shocker. (Of course, there were further David Bowies as well.)

At that moment, I knew for certain that I desired to remove everything and transform like Bowie. I desired his slender frame and his defined hairstyle, his strong features and his male chest; I wanted to embody the slender-shaped, artist's Berlin phase. And yet I couldn't, because to authentically transform into Bowie, first I would need to be a man.

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

I needed several more years before I was willing. In the meantime, I made every effort to adopt male characteristics: I stopped wearing makeup and eliminated all my feminine garments, trimmed my tresses and started wearing masculine outfits.

I altered how I sat, changed my stride, and changed my name and pronouns, but I paused at surgical procedures - the potential for denial and regret had rendered me immobile with anxiety.

Once the David Bowie display finished its world tour with a presentation in New York City, following that period, I returned. I had experienced a turning point. I found it impossible to maintain the facade to be an identity that didn't fit.

Standing in front of the familiar clip in 2018, I became completely convinced that the challenge wasn't about my clothing, it was my physical form. I wasn't a masculine woman; I was a feminine man who'd been presenting artificially throughout his existence. I wanted to transform myself into the individual in the stylish outfit, dancing in the spotlight, and now I realized that I could.

I scheduled an appointment to see a medical professional not long after. It took additional years before my transformation concluded, but none of the fears I anticipated occurred.

I still have many of my feminine mannerisms, so people often mistake me for a queer man, but I'm OK with that. I sought the ability to play with gender following Bowie's example - and given that I'm comfortable in my body, I can.