Thomas Skinner has said he wants to “drown his sorrows” and “go down the pub”

When Thomas Skinner walked onto the glittered floor of Strictly Come Dancing this season, many assumed the former The Apprentice candidate had made a bold move to reinvent himself. A hardworking market‑trader‑turned‑TV‑personality, Skinner had built a sizeable online presence, embraced the “BOSH!”

catch‑phrase and cultivated a no‑nonsense, self‑made image. But as his time on Strictly came to a surprisingly abrupt end, the public revelations, emotional postings and mounting pressure around him have painted a more troubling portrait: of a man exposed, vulnerable and, by his own admission, struggling.

From the outside, it looked like Skinner’s kind of opportunity: a TV show with broad appeal, a chance to show a different side, and to connect with millions. Yet what transpired behind the camera and off the dance floor tells of regret, backlash, self‑doubt and an inner tempest. In a raw post after his exit he admitted, “Every part of me wants to go down the pub and drown my sorrows…”

His regret over signing up for the show was also explicit: “I wish I (had) never done Strictly … I never fitted the bill for that show … it’s caused me nothing but agg (aggravation).”

What follows is a deeper look at how the dream turned into a public and private ordeal: the early exit, the shocking admissions, the online abuse, the family strain, the nostalgic pub‑escape urge and what it all suggests about the modern celebrity treadmill.

Thomas Skinner was the first celebrity to leave Strictly Come Dancing(Image: BBC)

After lasting only one week on Strictly Come Dancing reality TV star Thomas Skinner has said he wants to “drown his sorrows” and “go down the pub”. Thomas was partnered with Welsh professional dancer Amy Dowden and did not make it very far in the dancing competition.

Posting to X, formerly known as Twitter, Thomas said: “Every part of me wants to go down the pub and drown my sorrows. But I’m not. The wife is making our little boys favourite. Home made chicken pie.

“I’m gonna lift some HEAVY WEIGHTS in the garden and pump myself up then i am gonna spend time with my beautiful little family on big massive sofa and watch the tele.

“DONT WORRY ABOUT GETTING PERFECT. JUST GET BETTER. BOSH”

In a previous post on X, posted just hours before talking about the pub, Thomas said he wished he never took part in Strictly Come Dancing.

He said: I’ve had enough of all this bo**ex. I can’t do anything right now without someone critising me. Or Making me do something against my will. It’s bullshit. I wish I never done strictly, I never fitted the bill for that show let’s be honest.

Skinner’s time on Strictly was exceptionally brief. Partnered with pro dancer Amy Dowden, he became the first celebrity eliminated this year—ending their journey after a salsa in Week 2.

The elimination alone might have been disappointing but manageable—however, it became a catalyst for a larger unraveling. Alongside the exit came the resurfacing of controversies which had long hovered: the admission of a two‑week affair shortly after marrying his wife, Sinead, in 2022; confrontations with the press (such as an incident where he grabbed a journalist’s phone and stormed out of a press event) and the revelation of multiple online posts around political views and national identity.

As Skinner himself put it: “My life ain’t perfect… far from it. I’ve made big mistakes, I’ve let people down, and done things I’ll always regret in my past.”

Thus, what was meant to be a fresh chapter ended up bringing past mistakes, present criticisms and public scrutiny into sharp focus.

The fallout has been more than just embarrassment. Skinner spoke openly about the tide of online abuse he has been subject to. “Constant abuse,” he wrote. “I can’t do anything right now without someone criticising me or making me do something against my will.”  He revealed that some days it felt like “people I’ve supported my whole life are starting to turn on me because they see what’s going on online.”

He described being recognised everywhere, beeped at in his work van, appearing to be public property and losing parts of his anonymity. The narrative spun around him, he says, has hurt him more than the objective missteps. “I’ve had a narrative spun against me so people always have an opinion on me now that they didn’t three months ago.”

That kind of hyper‑visibility is the flipside of celebrity: once you sign up, you can’t just disappear again. Skinner seems to have underestimated that or perhaps been unprepared for how merciless the scrutiny would become.

And then came the confession that acted as a magnifying glass: cheating on his wife. In one of the most awkward and unexpected reveals, Skinner admitted to a “two‑week fling” with a woman he met in a pub, just weeks after his wedding. He called it “the biggest mistake of my life” and said he woke up feeling “absolutely terrible.”

That kind of personal admission exploded onto a public stage, precisely at the moment when he was supposed to be enjoying the feel‑good element of celebrity TV. Instead it became a headline, an anchor, a narrative that would not let him float free. And ironically, his attempt at honesty may have deepened the fallout. Because once you admit something so raw, every misstep afterward gets measured against it.

The combination of the early exit + past mistakes + online abuse has clearly taken a toll. Skinner himself spoke of being “tired of all this nonsense,” of needing to “take a break and concentrate on me and my family.”  And in a vulnerable moment he admitted: “Every part of me wants to go down the pub and drown my sorrows.”

Though he followed it with a statement that he wouldn’t give in to that urge, that he would instead lift weights in the garden, watch a film with his children, and try to be better. That he would forgo the pub for the sofa and family time. The imagery itself is telling: strongman rhetoric (“lift heavy weights”), but in the garden not the gym. A retreat perhaps rather than a conquest.

It’s the kind of defiant optimism that often masks deeper wounds.

And let’s talk about the family dimension, which rarely gets the full spotlight. Skinner is father to three young children and married to Sinead, who reportedly forgave his affair. He said: “She had every right to leave me back then, but she forgave me… and that forgiveness changed my life.”

That line is perhaps one of the most poignant: he understands the severity of his error, yet describes a rebuilding process with his wife and children. Yet, in being thrust into the media maelstrom of Strictly, the pressure doesn’t just hit him—it hits the family. Someone has to hold the fort when the public torchlight finds you. He admitted he’s never been one to admit he’s struggling — but now he is. “I ain’t one to admit I’m struggling. But I am.”

What this tells us is that the personal cost of fame — especially for a private family man thrown into the reality‑TV arena — can run deeper than a mere soap‑opera scandal. It can ripple into mental health, into family dynamics, into identity.

The public reaction has been harsh. On one side, some viewers believed he was “set up” by the show — that the producers may have chosen a poor music choice (his salsa to Dizzee Rascal’s “Bonkers”) and choreography that worsened his elimination chances. On the other, critics have pointed to his pact with controversies: political posts, his affair, the phone incident with a journalist. The mixture made him an easy target.

Even within the fandom of Strictly, where many want happy‑ending journeys, Skinner seemed to receive less goodwill and more backlash. After his elimination, fans both defended and attacked him, some arguing he was unfairly treated, others saying he deserved to go.It raises the question: was he ever going to win, or was the show always about something else? The optics suggest the latter: highly visible, means to an end, not the quiet redemption narrative he might have hoped for.

Let’s take a moment to reflect on what this says about modern celebrity and reality TV. Skinner’s arc is instructive: A man built on authenticity‑‑or at least a version of self‑made, outspoken authenticity‑‑walks into a mainstream entertainment show that demands a different kind of persona. He signs up for the glamour, but the machine demands optics, polish, likability. When the authenticity meets a format that prizes choreographed spectacle, there’s friction.

Your past mistakes become immediate liabilities. Your political views, your personal admissions, your off‑camera life – they become the storyline. In Skinner’s case, everything got pulled into the spotlight: the affair, the online posts, the press incident, the elimination, the public snipes. Rather than a simple dancing journey, it became a multi‑front fight.

And there’s a lesson in the cost: publicly‑visible emotional distress, regret, a sense of being hunted, the pub metaphor of drowning sorrows. It reminds us that being seen is not always being understood. Being in the limelight is not always freeing. Sometimes it’s the opposite.

Yet, despite the storm, Skinner’s words also carry a kind of defiance. He refused the pub‑escape that he admitted tempted him. He chose family, weights, the sofa. He posted messages to those “going through shit right now”.Even in his regret, he aimed to channel something positive: “Don’t worry about getting perfect. Just get better.”

That suggests he still sees this as a journey, not a failure. He’s aware of the narrative against him, the “target” label he feels he’s been assigned (“I’ve become a target… being portrayed public enemy number 1”).  So his exit from Strictly might actually mark a new phase—not the one he envisioned, but one more raw.

What happens now? For Skinner, the challenge will be rebuilding without the show’s platform, but also without the pressure that came with it. If he chooses to step back, reflect, rebuild his personal brand and focus on what matters (family, mental health, authenticity), this moment could become a pivot rather than a plunge. On the other hand, if he remains exposed, reacting publicly to every slight, the risk is further spiral—into self‑medication, retreat, bitterness.

His admission of wanting to “drown sorrows”, even if not acted on, is a red flag. Reality TV often shows the glitter but hides the cost. For someone in Skinner’s situation, with vulnerabilities, public missteps and escalating scrutiny, the risk of coping via unhealthy routes is real. Good that he acknowledged it; better that he finds sustained support.

In the end, the story of Thomas Skinner’s short‑lived Strictly journey is a cautionary tale. A reminder that fame is not a remedy for regret, nor is spectacle a substitute for healing. That the dancing floor may glitter, but the lights don’t mask the shadows. His struggle with regret, the “public enemy” feeling, the urge to escape to the pub—these are human, and they reveal more about celebrity culture than they do about dance scores.

If nothing else, Skinner’s openness invites empathy. He may be flawed, very much so (he admits it), but he is human. As a society, maybe we ask less about the spectacle and more about the support behind it. His exit isn’t just a twist on Strictly’s narrative—it’s a mirror of what happens when you step into the limelight before the limelight steps into you.

And for Skinner, the real dance may be off the floor: the one with his demons, his family, his mistakes and hopes. Whether he wins that is far more important than any Glitterball trophy.

“And It’s Caused me nothing but agg. Constant absuse. All I f***in do is try to spread positivity online. I can’t walk anywhere without people knowing who I am. I’ve had a narrative spun against me so People always have an opinion on me now that they didn’t 3 months ago.

“I’ve heard so many lies said and told about me. It’s driving me mad. I’ve had a constant pile on of abuse over the last month like I’m a mass murderer. It’s bu***hit. I went out to work in my van this morning and I’m either getting beeped at or people putting their thumb up at me.

“I’ve honestly had enough. Now people I’ve supported my whole life are starting to turn on me because they see what’s going on online. It ain’t real life. I think I need to take a break and consentrate on me and my family.

“Because I ain’t one to admit I’m struggling. But I am. I’m honestly tired of all this nonsense. Can no one see what’s happening to me, I don’t know why I’ve become this target.

“I’ve always been the one that’s been solid. But I’ve really really had enough now. Bosh”

Thomas is known for his right wing political views and came under a lot of fire when he admitted to having an affair, just weeks after marrying his wife.

Recently Amy, who missed the 2023 series of Strictly Come Dancing due to undergoing cancer treatment, has issued an heart breaking message.

Speaking to the Mail’s Richard Eden at the Women of the Year Awards, Amy said: “I’m gutted to be out of the competition because I really wanted to represent cancer survivors – and I feel like I’ve let them down.”

She continued: “I wanted Thomas to go far but, selfishly, I wanted to do it for the cancer community. Since my diagnosis, I came back, got pulled out, came back again and then finished last.”