My earliest memory is of Heathrow airport when I moved from Tonga to the UK, aged six. It was so cold I could see my breath, so I pretended I was smoking. The crowds were the opposite to what we had known in my little village of Longolongo.
A happy childhood is about freedom. In Tonga I would roam the streets, barter with my cousins for cash so I could buy ice cream or a loaf of bread to share, then play touch rugby until it got dark.
My diverse upbringing taught me to accept difference as the norm. At school in Tonga I wore a ta’ovala, a kind of mat around my waist, and a tupenu, a sort of sarong. When I went to Harrow I was in a jacket, trousers and straw hat. I wore both uniforms with pride.
Tongan culture teaches you to put others first. At the dinner table, you let the older people eat before you. That humility didn’t help me early in my rugby career, but I like that culture of respect.
My game is all about power, but I lost 3st, dropping down to 20st, by cutting out fast food and not snacking at night. If I have carbs at 9pm, they just fester.
At the end of a Six Nations match my body is pretty sore, but it is a very satisfying pain. I have lots of scars – the coolest is on my forehead, from when I won the Champions Cup with my club Saracens in 2016 and I got stamped on. It reminds me of winning.
I am a very emotional person and it’s good to let it out. My dad also cries, but I don’t consider him a weak man. He just wears his heart on his sleeve, like me.
My mother and grandmother find it hard to watch me and my brother Mako, who also plays for England. Mum can only watch matches on TV, not in person, and my gran hides in the other room.
I back myself as a singer. My mum is a Methodist minister so we used to sing in front of people at church, which was more nerve-racking than playing rugby.
In England it’s not cool to talk about the church, but in Tonga if you don’t go, everybody thinks you’re a loser. Everyone sees a bad side of religion, but it’s about being kind to your neighbour. I say a prayer every morning and at meal times.
I am bad at paying bills. I won’t pay it until someone turns up at my door. My partner doesn’t like it. I am very good at putting things to the back of my mind.
We all need to give more ground. Whether it is money, politics or just traffic. If more people are selfless, the world will be a better place.
Billy Vunipola is an ambassador for Stance. His autobiography, Wrecking Ball: a Big Lad from a Small Island, is published by Headline at £9.99. Buy it for £8.79 at guardianbookshop.com
