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I spent years growing up being told what my sexuality was.

I was certainly open for something being on the edge of a nervous breakdown, perplexed by my own sexuality. I was gay.

I had a few problems. I didn't realise it until I started going to therapy. I did it for 10 years, two days a week, and pretty quickly I understood that a lot of my suffering, many of my issues, were rooted in my realising that I was gay when I was a little boy. I knew I was different. That made me very fragile.

My reasons for declaring a sexual preference had to do less with the pursuit of personal freedom than with the lust for pure shock value.

Most simply but profoundly, I chose to live an honest life, which I think as a gay person is not a given.

I'm proud of my sexuality. I embrace it. It's just another part of me.

In many ways, my attachment to human freedom was completely compatible with my right to live freely as a homosexual.

I spent the first half of my career being accused of being gay when I hadn't had anything like a gay relationship.

In terms of my work, I've never been reticent in terms of defining my sexuality. I write about my life.