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The one part of my life which I have never really looked at until recently was how I feel about same-sex relationships. Many years ago, in 1977, I had a radio show in Australia. This was 5 years before I opened the metaphysical doorway. It was a 3-hour show every Friday morning, and I was the most popular person each week on the radio – mainly because people loved my English accent. I realize now that people were affected by my energy even then. As one woman had said to me, “You are soooo comforting on the radio!”
I had to have a theme for my show, and I had heard a piece of music which I just loved. It was called Billitus, and I did not know it was the music from a film about lesbians! I just loved the music. This piece of music played my show in and played it out. One day, I had a letter from a woman who told me that she loved my show and would love to meet me. Her name was Elizabeth, and she was married with two children. I arranged to meet her a few days after the letter arrived (there was no e-mail then as far as I recall). We met in town, had a delicious lunch, and talked and talked. Elizabeth seemed so nice and invited me back to her house to see photos of her children and talk further. I went along quite innocently. During my visit to her home, she made a cup of tea for me and sat down at my feet. There she began to tell me how much she loved me, how she loved my show, and wanted to be with me. I did not know what to do, because I certainly did not feel the same way. I also felt embarrassed, deeply embarrassed. I was married with children myself. I was not happy in my marriage, but the thought of being with another woman was YUK!! I could not get out of the house quick enough.
She had given me a book by Khalil Gibran over our lunch called The Prophet. Apparently I had mentioned on air that I loved Gibran’s writing and did not have the book. I left the book behind in my effort to leave the house as quickly as I could. When I got home, I felt sick. I also felt “dirty” – as if I had been invaded. Elizabeth tried to contact me at the radio station by phone, but I refused to take her calls. She sent the Khalil Gibran book by mail with a nice card. I threw it in the trash bin. I cannot believe I did it now, but at the time I was so confused and embarrassed. It was as if the book was a part of what had taken place. I changed the music in the show to something quite different. I shut the experience completely out of my mind and got on with my life, moving house and area a few years later.