My sport was my comfort. The routine, the camaraderie, the team... everyone's around you. After rugby you're on your own.
Other sportsmen have confided in me that they're gay. The advice I give is that coming out is great for you as a person, but that you also have to remember you're a role model. As a sportsman you take the money and the glory, but you also take the responsibility that comes with it and make sure the stories that follow are positive.
My father always pretends to hate Christmas. But when we were children he was the first one waking us up, saying: 'Do you think Father Christmas has been yet?'
I was always driven by the idea that if people ever found out about who I was then the stature I created for myself within rugby would have to be as relevant as the fact I was gay. It was always the driving factor to be the strongest, the fastest, the most skilful.
I was born and raised to play rugby. I have two parents who are hugely proud of my rugby achievements, but even they say that maybe it was just a platform to give me a voice to do something better, and rugby wasn't what I was all about. Something else was.
I don't take any day for granted, I work hard, I'm motivated.
I'm a sportsman, as good and strong as you, who just happens to be gay.
I find it hard to believe that people can be jealous of other people's success.
I had a stroke in 2006. I thought: 'This is it.'
I was never ever attracted to any of my rugby mates; I was really good at switching off my emotions and I wouldn't have even considered crossing that line.