“Brexit is the will of the people. We need to get on with it”

Whoever “the people” were they certainly didn’t include me. Brexit wasn’t my will, I didn’t want to get on with it. There was nothing in “the will of the people” that acknowledged the people who voted remain: presumably we’d all mass-converted to the cause of Brexit.

Nevertheless I maintained my stance of Remain but was frustrated by the response:

“You’re anti-democratic”
“You lost. Accept it.”
“Remember it’s the will of the people”

I circled round and round the same arguments, finding few people who felt Brexit should be challenged. Seeing gulfs emerging over political differences I stopped discussing Brexit with friends and family.

When the spectre of no deal emerged I wrote to my MP imploring her not to vote for it, and represent the best interests of her constituents. Her response contained the words, “the will of the people.”

I felt despondent, unrepresented and isolated. Brexit was an inevitability, and my views were wrong.

I decided to make my feelings known in the council elections, but my town council ballot paper offered:
Conservative
Labour
UKIP

Despairing, I stared at the paper then scrawled “STOP BREXIT” across it, folded it, dropped it in the ballot box and marched out of the polling station.

When the results were announced the following day it was noted that a significant number of ballot papers had been spoiled. “These spoiled ballots show that the British people want to get on with Brexit” blared the news. I think I actually put my head in my hands in that moment. Nothing I did mattered.

Scrolling through Twitter I saw a post from Ed Davey, exhorting people to vote for their local Lib Dem candidates. I responded “it’s a bit hard to vote for you when you aren’t on the flipping ballot.”.

The responses I received were incredible: sympathy from Ed and an acknowledgement that more candidates were needed, messages from party members encouraging me to sign up, get involved, maybe even stand. I realised two things in that exchange: 1. I was not alone. 2. I could do something to help.

So I joined the Lib Dems. I was warmly welcomed, and immediately involved. I started helping out with canvassing and leaflet dropping. I met new people via social media and through regional events. I started to consider standing as a candidate and found more people eager to point me in the right direction. I started speaking up again and found, unexpectedly, that some of my friends and family were interested in following my journey and what I had to say. My voice was heard, and more than that, I could make a difference.

So here I am today, and this is what membership of the Lib Dems means to me: Being part of a community of people who are supportive and take action when things aren’t right, who helped me find my voice again and use it.

* Emma Hunneyball is a new member of the Liberal Democrats.