Red, White and Blue (X two)

At the risk of upsetting any very patriotic British readers, I have to tell you that something quite wonderful happened to me last week. The République of France finally decided to accept my nationality application. As of January 1st, I am French (as well as British)!

I realise that the significance of this event is 90% symbolic and only 10% practical (I’ll now be able to vote in presidential elections), but for me, it’s important. Not least because of the long, complicated, bureaucratic and fairly invasive process I’ve been through to get this innocuous sheet of white paper informing me “Madame, you are now French.”
The process involved putting together a dossier weighing approximately two kilos (you can imagine the sort of solid proof of good citizenship one is expected to provide: right down to a hard-won letter from a northern English police station, confirming that I have never been committed of a criminal offence in the UK…), and no less than three separate interviews (at the Tribunal, Préfecture and Police Station), accompanied by FH and BB, during which we had to “prove” to a series of rather unfriendly civil servants that we have not been merely pretending to be married for the past six years.

Anyway, the République has finally given its blessing.

It’s important to me in the sense that I’ve chosen to become French, mainly because this is my home and there are many, many things that I love about this country. Adopting a nationality as a conscious decision is quite different from just inheriting it as a birthright, although this whole process has also made me reflect on the immense privilege of being born British (or into any rich European country).

But, all that is by the by. Vive la France! I have now earned the right to moan, complain and not realise quite how very lucky I am… just like all my fellow countrymen!