People know you as the lad who won Big Brother in 2005, but who was Anthony before that?

I was obsessed with becoming a professional footballer. I wasn’t academic at all, but I was incredibly driven when it came to sport. I played decent non-league football, but eventually I had to accept that becoming a professional wasn’t going to happen.

I ended up doing all sorts. I was a trainee hairdresser during the day and, unbelievably, a 70s disco dancer at night. That actually gave me a huge amount of confidence performing in front of people and probably helped me when I auditioned for Big Brother.

Give us a fun fact most people won’t know about you.

At one point, when my Big Brother fame was seriously on the decline, I became a priest in a nightclub.

I had my own chapel, microphone and everything, and I’d actually marry people on nights out. So yes — former Big Brother winner, barber, 70s disco dancer… and nightclub vicar!

What happened when the fame and money started to disappear?

That was when things became difficult. At the time I thought my problem was losing the fame, but looking back it was really about identity. I’d become “Anthony who won Big Brother”. When that disappeared, I didn’t know who I was any more. My ego and pride made me terrified of getting what I considered a normal job.

I started escaping through alcohol and drugs. My friends were building careers, getting married and having families while I was still living like someone in his early twenties. I missed five mortgage payments and eventually, at 28, moved back in with my grandma.

How bad did things become?

There were times when I genuinely didn’t want to be here. I describe what I experienced as passive suicidal thoughts. I wasn’t making plans to take my own life, but at my lowest point, if there had been a button I could press to make everything disappear, I would have pressed it.

There was also a lot of shame. I’d always been the sensible, driven lad in my family, so I kept much of what was happening to myself. For years, if I was interviewed, I put on a front and pretended everything was great.

When did you realise that something had to change — and what did you do to turn your life around?

The phrase that kept coming into my head was “change things up.” I needed to change my environment and the people I was surrounding myself with. An opportunity came along to return to the hair industry in Darlington, so I took it. I moved somewhere I didn’t know anybody and started again.

It turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I met my wife, we now have three children, and within a couple of years I’d built a business and started feeling like myself again. None of that would have happened if I hadn’t taken action.

How did your own experiences lead you towards helping others?

Working as a barber, men would naturally start talking to me. I found myself having what were almost unofficial therapy sessions in the chair.

As I became more comfortable sharing my own experiences, I realised how powerful that could be. People would tell me that conversations we’d had had genuinely helped them. I knew what it felt like to be in that hole, and if you’ve found a way out, sharing that experience can be incredibly powerful for someone who’s still there.

What did you discover when you started speaking openly?

That the things I thought were weaknesses were actually strengths. Talking publicly about drugs, financial problems and mental health terrified me. But instead of judgement, people came up afterwards, hugged me, thanked me and shared their own experiences.

That’s when I realised vulnerability isn’t weakness. Owning your story can be a token of strength.

And Never Throw in the Towel grew from there?

Yes. I started with meet-ups and group sessions and then had the idea of combining talks with something I already knew worked — the barber’s chair.

After speaking, I’d offer one-to-one haircuts in a pop up barber shop where somebody could talk privately for 25 minutes. I tried it in a factory and several men opened up about extremely serious experiences. That showed me there was something genuinely powerful in the idea. Never Throw in the Towel has now become what I do full-time.

Where’s your happy place now?

Anywhere I’m on holiday with my family.

Becoming a dad has been massive for me. I have three children and I love spending money on experiences and creating memories with them. When you’re away together, you get that uninterrupted time you don’t normally have because of work and everyday life.

That’s my happy place — being away with my wife and kids and making memories together.

What more should businesses be doing about mental health?

We need consistency in the same way safety has benefitted. Businesses have transformed workplace culture around health and safety through training, accountability and making it part of everyday working life. Mental health needs that same commitment and consistency rather than something we talk about during a particular awareness week or month.

Leadership is hugely important too. I’ve seen what happens when a senior leader shares their own experience — suddenly other people feel able to open up.

Sharing stories is contagious. It creates a ripple effect.