Guilty secrets, eh? We’ve all got them. There are thoughts we can’t help thinking, feelings we can’t help feeling. It would be easier if we didn’t, if everything about us lined up neatly with the person we like to think we are. But no: life is complicated and we are complicated and IfeelabitsorryforTheresaMay and there, I’ve just said it, and I tried to say it really quickly but you heard me anyway, and I’m a bit embarrassed about it and you probably are too if you know me, but I now feel that I need to explain myself, so here goes.
This really isn’t about her politics. I don’t feel sorry for her because of those. Her politics, from her voting record to her role at the heart of a heartless government to those appalling vans, are pretty abhorrent to me and I don’t intend to defend them at all. But so much of the sludgy opprobrium that’s been chucked all over her by everyone from every possible angle in the past couple of months isn’t really about her politics.
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