Model behaviour: Paul Sculfor

Before becoming a professional model, I was working on building sites and spending all my free time buying, racing, fixing and selling cars and motorbikes. I also boxed and loved keeping fit with my dad and my granddad, who was a great role model for me. I was devastated when he passed away and around that time my mum decided to enter me in a competition, which she only told me about once I had won; it was her way of cheering me up and getting me out of the boxing ring.

It was led by model agency Select and the Daily Mirror and the prize was a two-week holiday, clothes and the chance to model. The ceremony was held at the Limelight club in London and I remember Penny Lancaster being there – she came third. It was intimidating because I knew nothing about the industry. I was looking at the other guys and they were massive and I knew I wasn't as big as some of them. I now know I was worrying without understanding certain things about the industry: presenting Britain's Next Top Model for the past two seasons, I can see my young self in some of the girls. I remember welling up to my mum, saying: "I've won! I don't know what it means, but I know it's good".

For me, it was a real turning point, especially coming from a small-town mentality in London. I was blasted with this new world of cultures and travel. I never got the holiday, but I got the clothes and the break of a lifetime.

Subscribe to The Week

Escape your echo chamber. Get the facts behind the news, plus analysis from multiple perspectives.

SUBSCRIBE & SAVE

Sign up for The Week's Free Newsletters

From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.

From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.

Sign up

The only person I'd known of as a model was Zane O'Donnell. I used to look at him in my mum's catalogues and think how cool and unmodel-like he was in his biker clothes. The designer Oliver Spencer's shows are brilliant at this, as most of the guys that walk are handsome and have character but aren't "typical" models. It makes a difference, as a lot of my friends are bankers and lawyers and can't relate to or understand the industry now, but would probably wear Spencer's pieces because the designs, and the guys modelling them, are relatable. I can always see myself wearing it.

For the first five years, I was at castings every day. I walked for miles around every city I was in, working and meeting people all day long. If I ran out of people in London, I would go to Paris or Milan, to Greece, and back again. At that time I was in a relationship with Dutch supermodel Anouk Voorveld and living between New York and Miami. I think I peaked at that age career-wise, taking 150 flights in 1997 alone, and all I was doing was chasing a dream to be the best, which left me feeling like I did when I first started: hollow and lost.

I tried a lot of different things to combat this and eventually moved to LA, where I trained as an actor with a lady called Janet for a year. She was a 4ft 9 ginger-haired Jewish lady who ate sweets all the time and was brilliant. I really enjoyed acting, but I never had the courage to go for auditions or castings for big productions. I had a lot of issues with anxiety and panic attacks at the time so I moved back to London and ended up going to a treatment centre for in-house therapy over a six-month period.

Then, unexpectedly, Donatella Versace phoned me. She was doing a show for the Elton John Aids Foundation and, despite me not feeling myself, said I should come and do it. As we were good friends at the time, I did it and, to be honest, I really felt the excitement again. I'd missed the buzz and the creativity of people and this encouraged me to tell Select I'd like to start modelling again. I wanted to see for myself if I could still do this job, but with a different goal. And I did it. I found that there are good parts of the business, that not everyone's shallow, and that actually my view was completely wrong.

In 2006, things changed for me. I had a bike accident in LA, while I was doing a job there. I damaged my spine and the surgeon said they needed to fuse my back together. Instead, I opted to go to a Chinese doctor and consequently ended up moving back to LA, falling into a martial art called Ba Gua and practising every morning for two-to-three hours with the master. I've always been searching within myself and searching through this martial art, which ended up getting my spine pretty much back to normal and giving my life some structure.

Now my life focuses on all of my interests: I am still lucky enough to model and I have discovered I really enjoy TV presenting, but I also work hard on our charity, Stride Foundation, which I started with my wife Federica. We started it two years ago and it's involved with helping people with alcohol and drug recovery, as well as improving understanding of mental health, addiction and harmful substances. My wife's completing a PhD in public health with a focus on mental health at Imperial College London and wants to open a centre at some point in the future.

I know I'm extremely lucky to have had the life experiences and career I've had and I'm so grateful for all of it. But mostly, I'm excited to see what the future holds.

PAUL SCULFOR is a British model and presenter who, alongside his wife Federica, founded the Stride Foundation, which aims to provide high impact support for individuals who are affected by addiction; stridefoundation.com

Photograph by Lawrence Sparks.