How I stopped worrying and learned to love Brexit | Arwa Mahdawi

Arwa Mahdawi
Enjoy queues? Expect to spend much more time in them post-Brexit. Photograph: Andrew Bret Wallis/Getty Images

It’s taken a while but I’ve finally seen the light. After months of relentless remoaning, I’ve realised that, actually, this whole Brexit business isn’t such a bad idea after all. In fact, I’ve decided Brexit is brilliant. And you know what? Letting go of my elitist reservations and embracing Brexit was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

As soon as I climbed aboard the Brexit bus, I felt liberated; it was as if a 350m-tonne weight had been lifted. I gave up uselessly fretting about the future of Britain, the country where I was born – and where I feel very lucky to have been born – and which I love. Patriotism, I realised, isn’t wanting the best for your country, it’s blindly trusting politicians to do what’s best for your country. Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die, and all that. Anyway, it was like magic: as soon as I understood what being a patriot really means, I felt a lot happier about life, the EUniverse and everything.

If you’re one of those sad, unsaved souls still losing sleep about Britain’s messy divorce from Europe then I have some advice: cheer up. Remember being British doesn’t mean you have to be miserable all the time; a little bit of optimism is OK. So, please, I implore you: take a deep breath, ignore all logic and reason, dismiss any inconvenient truths and look on the bright side of Brexit. If you’re having trouble doing that then help is at hand: I’ve compiled a six-point plan on how to stop worrying and learn to love Brexit.

Increase your capacity for Brullshit

I can’t stress this enough: to fully appreciate the romantic poetry of Brexit you must learn to willingly suspend your disbelief. I admit at first I found it hard to take Boris Johnson and other bright-eyed Brexiters seriously. “I can’t believe that!” I exclaimed, just a few weeks ago, when I read Johnson’s extraordinary essay on the “glorious” future awaiting Britain, once Brexit “succeeds mightily”.

“There’s no use trying, one can’t believe impossible things.” But, actually, with enough practice one can. There’s a great lesson about this in Alice in Wonderland – the classic story of a little girl exploring a post-fact world. I’m sure you remember the bit in which the Queen tells Alice that you can believe pretty much anything if you practise: “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” This is good advice for everyone. Instead of starting your day with mindfulness exercises, start by practising mindlessness. Once you’ve increased your capacity for tolerating nonsense you’ll find Brexit starts to make a lot more sense.

Imagine the queueing opportunities

If there’s one thing that unites everyone in Britain, regardless of colour or class, it’s our shared love of queueing. And just think how much more queueing we’ll all get to do soon! No longer will we simply breeze through the “all EU passports” gate while travelling to the continent, we’ll get the chance to join a nice long line and passive-aggressively scowl at foreigners who don’t understand that the very foundation of civilisation rests on patiently waiting your turn. It will be glorious.

Think about all the starving children in Africa

If they were lucky enough to have a Brexit like ours they would finish it without complaining.

Think about the royal children in England

Listen, I’m not saying that Kate Middleton got pregnant again to distract the country from Brexit, but I’m not ruling it out. Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if the palace has told her that, in these trying times, it’s her royal duty to lie back, think of England and keep popping out Brexit babies. Discussing economics really does seem frivolous when we could all be speculating about the sex of Britain’s next silver-spoon-sucking sprog. I’ve never been much of a monarchist, but lately I believe the royal children are our future; we should teach them well and let them lead the way.

Sterling may be down, but there’s always Britcoin

According to EU negotiators the Brexit bill is some €60bn, which seems a lot for nothing. Sorry, that was my old scepticism talking. I know: freedom is priceless. But, come on, it’s more than we all bargained for, isn’t it? Particularly as we’ve now learned there’s no such thing as the magic money tree. There is, however, magic internet money – and I really don’t know why nobody’s considered jumping on the cryptocurrency bandwagon as a way to get rich quick and pay off our Brexit bill. Bitcoin has surged to new heights; at the time of writing one Bitcoin was worth £4,300; five years ago it was worth less than £7. So why can’t we just scrap the pound, issue a digital Britcoin, and let internet economics do its thing?

Move to the US

Brexit is a lot easier to deal with when you don’t have to, you know, actually deal with it. Why do you think Nigel Farage spends so much time Stateside? I hate to say it, but we should all be more like Farage.