It is the toughest, most macho of male sports, and with that comes an image. In many ways, it is barbaric, and I could never have come out without first establishing myself and earning respect as a player. Rugby was my passion, my whole life, and I wasn't prepared to risk losing everything I loved.
I became a master of disguise and could play the straight man down to a tee, sometimes over-compensating by getting into fights or being overly aggressive because I didn't want the real me to be found out. So I created this alter ego, knowing full well that I was living in my little fantasy bubble, my shell.
I can remember lacing up my boots ahead of my first cap against Japan in the 1995 World Cup in South Africa. I remember the changing room, the smell of the place, every last detail of how I warmed up, walking out onto the pitch, thinking how proud my parents would be. I was doing all I ever wanted to do.