Just imagine, for a minute, that you were living in a nation where, every day, something in your path triggers memories of a time steeped in fear.
The relentless scaremongering from your TV, the demeaning headlines on the newsstand, the “doom and gloom” leaflets coming through your door, people you never met, knocking at your door and telling you to stockpile food, because you’ll lose your pension.
As you go along through your day…
On the train, a blue Yes badge on someone’s rucksack.
The faded, tatty remnant of a NoThanks sticker on a lamp post.
A Saltire, waving in the breeze on top of a building.
It’s an epiphany: even the flag of your own country is a catalyst to revive memories of a time everyone you believed to be on your side did its worse to terrify you.
And still poisoned by that venom, you want that to go away.
“We won, stop talking about it.”
“Once in a lifetime.”
“Get on with your job.”
“No means no!”
It’s a never ending nightmare… But is it our fault for your constant terror?
Who instilled fear in your life, made you doubt of your ability, said you were weak?
We offered a dream, you were inculcated a nightmare.
We’re sorry if your feelings are negative, and you don’t feel like a winner.
Phyrric victories always feel like defeats.
Our campaign was joyous, hopeful, positive and forward looking.
Sure, we were heartbroken that night, and angry that so many fell into a trap so easy to spot.
But ours was an electrifying, empowering time that we are looking forward to living again, and again.
And we’re also acutely aware that Independence is the beginning, not the end of our journey.
You want us to stop: we can’t wait to start.
We now have a sense of purpose, a common weal, a primal, relentless energy fueled by hope: we’re the winners of a prize bigger than a ballot count.
We are a nation, we are its people.