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In order to truly make sense of this post, you do need to have read the post Without Portfolio Although, I am perfectly aware that you will ignore this and continue to read regardless, before realising I might have been correct after all, slipping off to read it and returning here with the hope you’ve not been noticed. So it’s nice to have you back; I hope it all makes more sense to you this second time.

But anyway… to the point:

This weekend’s England vs Wales six nations match has done little to help my Nationality Displacement… I thought it might inject a little pride in my team to see them battle it out in this way, but I ended up instead thinking about the move and how desperately I need to be away from here. Who knows, maybe that’s the key – maybe once I leave I will be able to think about the things I miss about England and realise that is wherein lies my own English identity but time alone will tell.

I don’t know what I was expecting; maybe some kind of epiphany through which I would suddenly feel everything fall into place and I would realise my English core; the truth is a whole pile of something else, though…

Lets start, then, at the beginning with the Anthems; the rousing, impassioned “Land of My Fathers” versus the dreary, sanctimonious “God Save Our Queen”.

Okay, I guess you are already seeing how this one will pan out: In this first play, the full 7 points to Wales as there is nothing inspiring or pride-inducing in the drawn-out drime that is our national song.

But hold on, what’s this? A shameful foul from England through not having their own anthem and taking that which supposedly represents a collection of countries (including Wales, of course!) to claim it as English. Penalty to Wales.

So Wales off to a cracking start then at 10-0.


And so it goes.


In my usual girlie manner, I have to point out that the Welsh kit looks far better. Oh and the English team has far less eye candy... but I am aware these are not the things which define a nationality!

So to make some attempt at depth and substance...


Needless to say, there was no English epiphany - in fact here is what happened:

At a couple of points during the game, I found myself instinctively cheering players through some tricky tackles and spectacular plays – a breakthrough, surely? But no, because these players were wearing red… yet still I was spurring them on, willing them past the struggling English defenders to score and cheering when they did.

And another peculiarity: As I went about my business after the game – baking cakes, cooking dinner, folding laundry and other mundanities, those times our mind shuts down and instinct kicks in – I found myself so many times spontaneously singing aloud. Nothing strange in that, I know. But for the fact that the song implanted in my mind was Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau. And yes, although I don’t know all the words, I was singing what little I knew in Welsh.

These factors are subliminal, things which just happened without thought or intention. So what does that say for my Englishness?

Just how English am I feeling right now?

Not at all, I am afraid.


I am sure I will return to this topic at some point; maybe when I do you will pay attention to my suggestion of a catch-up read and who knows maybe when I come back to it I may be able to provide something more telling... but in the meantime, I have nothing more to say.