Just be yourself, Theresa

THERESA MAY faces a cruel paradox: that while Parliament is a place where no one can afford to show their true feelings, politics is a place where an ability to cry in public has almost become a requisite of the job.

That’s hard for a woman who many think has no heart, but who is just someone who doesn’t wear it on her sleeve.

There’s something else. Mrs May belongs to a generation of women who, as minorities in a man’s world, learnt to hide their feelings in the interest of self-preservation.

It’s something many of us did. We compensated for being female by acting tougher and dressing scary. Killer heels and statement jewellery; sharp suits and strong lipstick.

Twenty years ago, when you had to run the gauntlet of institutional sexism, these things were necessary, part of the daily armour of feminism.

But now the menfolk have been subdued, they can seem a bit over the top.

If I had to give Mrs May any advice on how to survive the coming weeks, it would be this: stop trying to please everyone. Stop apologising. Don’t let the enemy’s narrative get its grip on you, and don’t let this single mistake over the election turn into a life-defining failure.

And don’t give up. Because however bad things may seem now, they’d be a lot worse if Jeremy Corbyn took control.