Someone said on social media that I was the son of Satan for being open about my sexuality. I told my mother, and she laughed and said, 'Well, what the hell does that make me?'

I find it hard to believe that people can be jealous of other people's success.

I don't take any day for granted, I work hard, I'm motivated.

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 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.

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.

People say getting fit is 90% diet and 10% exercise, but that's bollocks. If you train hard you earn the right to a chocolate bar.

My fear of coming out wasn't about rejection. I was scared people would say: 'Why were you lying to me? If you've been lying about that what else are you lying about?' Lying is my biggest regret.

I am a rugby player and first and foremost I am a man.

Some people say it's sad living in a hotel, but I'd rather be living in an hotel than living in an house on my own.

When I started doing Twitter, I realised there were so many people following me who were going through the same thing I was going through.

I'm un-self-sufficient. I can't look after myself. I really can't.

My old man works in the postal service, my mum in a hospital and my brother in a factory. They're my family and when I play rugby I'm representing them. But coming out was different. More than anyone, I feared for my father. I used to be a postman myself and so I know that working environment.

The most famous man in the world has his down days. It's life. But, for me, the rainy moments are isolated moments. I'm always at least half-full. And the rest of the time I'm smiling - all the way up to the brim.

If you could bottle that special feeling you sometimes get in a dressing room just before a match, you'd be a billionaire.

I feel I am as fit as anybody.

I really want to remain involved in rugby. I want to continue and have an influence on the game.

My parents, my family and my friends all love me and accept me for who I am and, even if the public are upset by this, I know the love of those people who mean the most to me will never change.

I don't know if my life is going to be easier because I'm out but, if it helps someone else, if it makes one young lad pick up the phone to ChildLine, then it will have been worth it.

Toulouse expanded my game. You were given a freedom to play and express yourself on the field. Toulouse is the biggest club in Europe, rugby's equivalent of Real Madrid. Their game has always been about offloading and running but it is also physical, the complete 'package. It was always exciting, no matter how close a game was.

The rugby team is a massive part of the city and generates a real passion but there is also far more to Toulouse. I learned not only to respect the history of the club but also the area and I soon came to appreciate 'buildings and structures.

In Toulouse, you immersed yourself in the culture of the place.

I have always said that leadership is not about one man but a group of experienced players.

The World Cup has not been kind to us overall.