Jeremy Corbyn proved his critics wrong in the face of contempt from his own party and shameless bullying by nearly every tabloid going. His campaign was the most inspiring political campaign that I have lived through and I'm so proud I was part of it.

Proud of the countless people living alongside me who chose to look after people in our hospitals over killing them with our nuclear weapons.

Proud of the Jamaican fella at the rally who told me he’d ‘been struggling for too long’ and would call his grandson Jeremy.

Proud of the fields of wheat still standing up tall under the crushing weight of Theresa’s 2 right feet.

Proud of the finest collection of memes I have seen in all my years as a self-confessed internet addict.

Proud of future us who will be undoubtedly standing up to the super-gang of bullies that is The tories and The DUP with a new found strength.

Not proud of the fact that - despite a genuine love for bleak holiday resorts, obsessive dog-people and Spice Girls tribute acts - I had still forgotten what it meant to be proud to be British.

Mostly proud that a lot of Britain did the most British thing of all and got behind the underdog.