It was always my ambition to be on the cover of a free gay magazine.

Liverpool and London are two places I looked upon as home.

I've turned my back on fancy parties and red carpets. I'm a writer, and if I did that, I'd never get anything done.

This bloke in Rome once took his camera off and cracked me round the head with it, and I'm bleeding. He was a bit bigger than me, the Italian photographer, but I thought, 'I can't back down now,' so I sort of squared up to him. Luckily, my mate jumped round and bit him on the neck.

I always joke that I want to be able to retire from boxing and still be able to look into the mirror without seeing scars all over my face. I love my sport, but I would rather not have to spend hours doing my makeup to cover up the memories once I retire.

Navigating a nonsober world of restaurants and bars, dinner parties, and benefits is like anything that requires practice. Like tennis or a foreign language, it gets easier the more you do it. But like all beginnings, it can be awkward. You stumble, you worry, and then there are unexpected moments of grace that give you the courage to keep going.

I have no interest in owning a football club; I don't play golf; I don't like horseracing and I'd rather become a professional bungee jumper than enter politics.

Obviously, I believe in clean sport and want to do all that I can, but at the same time, you can only control yourself.