ChrisJones

You want a Britain that holds its shape — marriage as it was, borders enforced, criminals removed fast, no fashionable rewrite of what a nation owes its own culture. Ten votes in and the pattern is already unmistakable: whenever the question touches identity or belonging, you land firmly right, unanimously so on rights, defence, immigration and welfare alike.

You're comfortable being outvoted. On marriage equality, the trillion-pound question, and the National Care Service, big majorities went one way and you went the other — six of your ten votes broke from the national mood. That's not contrarianism for its own sake; it's a settled sense that the country's instincts and yours have simply diverged on the things that matter to you.

You run with a Centre-Right crowd and mostly keep pace — constancia's your closest match, agreeing four times out of five — but rengo is your opposite number, siding with you barely a third of the time. The devolution vote is your one wrinkle: you backed regional assemblies, a genuinely leftish break from your own pattern, worth watching to see if it's principle or exception.

Ten votes is a sketch, not a portrait — every ballot you cast fills it in further, and tomorrow's read will already know you better than today's does.