If I had voted no last week, my Facebook status would currently be something like this:
“Well now that that’s over, it’s time to move on together. Scotland has spoken and this has been a real victory for democracy. I’m sick of people still going on about it, it’s been decided. It’s time for us to reconcile ourselves and build a better country.”
But I didn’t vote no. And I’m finding it difficult to ‘reconcile myself’ on the opportunity missed.
Trying to empathise with those who did support the union, I can understand why for them the mourning period should be cut short. Not just because they had the majority in the vote, although that is the most simplistic explanation. Those who voted no were giving a vote of confidence in the current political system – in so much that any desired change could be delivered under it.
So why is that difficult to accept? On Friday morning I had a vision of walking through Glasgow as Scotland was announced an independent country. I wanted to celebrate in George Square, with thousands like me who dreamed of building something life-changing. Something fresh and fair and ours. I wanted the world to look at Scotland and say we got it right. I wanted us to look at ourselves and say we got it right.
Of course I accept that democratically the country has decided. But how long is an appropriate amount of time to get over that dream shattering? How long should it take me to accept a government who I firstly didn’t vote for, and who secondly have already started backtracking on their promises?
I’m not ready to start posting pictures of my dinner, or live-updates of X Factor, or any of the other drivel that filled our newsfeeds before the spark was lit. I wanted change so badly, with every inch of my being, that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reconcile myself with the status-quo.

