Not My Vote

This is the first time I've genuinely felt sick to be British, especially being a northerner, my home town Hartlepool voted 70% in favour to leave.

Hartlepool is a small town with not much going on. It's one small voice in a wider debate but it's a voice I know well. There's a very low percentage of EU migrants living in Hartlepool but jaded views of immigration are rife, "they took our jobs", "we used to be able to trust our neighbours", "eeee, this country's going to the dogs, it's not like it was back in my day" etc etc etc.

The working class have spoken in the only way they felt they could, the government failed them a long time ago, the industries that provided so many jobs in the area are gone and there's nothing to replace them. This uprising has been slowly building for years fuelled by Daily Mail hysteria and a longing to cling to a successful past. A small town filled with a dangerous, bulldozing sense of pride that stems from vulnerability and bleakness. People needed a cause to believe in, being 'English and proud' is a front that hides the pain in these struggling towns.

Luckily I moved to London 8 years ago and escaped this small town mentality; the resistance to adapt and accept a new kind of society. I met a Romanian man and we've been together nearly 8 years, I learned so much from him and his family. I've seen the poverty in Eastern Europe first hand, places where clean tap water and electricity are still luxuries. It's easy to see why people choose to leave their own countries for a better life, we would do the same if we were put in their position (like now, when everything turns bad). Europe has issues, but I wanted us to stay and help to create a fairer and more equal world; but of course, it's simply easier to shut the doors, wave some flags and sip tea all day whilst talking about the 'good years'.

I'm pleased that London made the right choice yesterday, but sadly this time we've been drowned out. Sorry to my European friends and family, I hope this won't hit us too hard.