Election day is the big exam for those of us running in the municipal election, and let me tell you — it’s quite a nail-biter. Are you in or out? Elected or not?
I went down to my local polling station to cast my vote together with my husband. It felt a bit surreal to put my cross next to my own name for the very first time. I hope many others will do the same, I thought, heart beating slightly faster as I folded the ballot and dropped it into the ballot box.
On the way out of the sports hall where we had voted, we ran into a neighbor. “We’ve done our part,” he said as he patted me amicably on the shoulder. I knew I could count on him and his wife. I had also received quite a few messages from people in the neighborhood telling me they’d vote for me. And plenty of questions too — about who we would support for Lord Mayor or what we thought about concrete issues such as schools, the environment or safety. I answered all of them carefully and honestly.
You shouldn’t try to fish for an extra vote by guessing what the person asking wants to hear. It will sting too much if you actually get elected. It’s always good to get emails from the city’s residents — also when there’s no election. I put my listening ears on and appreciate having so many sets of ears out there helping me discover and understand matters I might otherwise never have heard about.
This year, election day is also a very special day for my husband and me. It’s our eight-year wedding anniversary. Back in 2017, we quickly became a couple, moved in together, I became pregnant with our first child, and we got married at the end of the year. At the time, my husband was the politician (he was an MP and Minister for Finance and the Interior), while I worked behind the scenes as the national secretary of the Danish European Movement. Since then, he has left politics while I am now the one on the ballot.
We post a few kissing photos on social media to mark the anniversary, and sweet comments and congratulations pour in. It adds a bit of coziness to a day otherwise filled with tension and nerves because of the uncertainty that always comes with standing before the voters’ verdict.
At eight in the evening, the polling stations close. A couple of hours later, the results begin to trickle in — for the parties. In most cities, personal votes aren’t counted until the day after the election. This means you have no idea whether you’re in or out when you go to bed on election night. Luckily, my party performs surprisingly well compared to the polls. Those had actually predicted that we would lose one or two seats, but we ended up keeping the six seats we already had. A good starting point for my chances. I am number two on the list, after all. But you never know. The ways of voters are mysterious.
The evening is spent at the election party with the party’s grassroots. Everyone is happy with the result. People talk, laugh, and hug. There are speeches, applause and cheering. A real winning atmosphere.
Even though I got home rather late from the party, I tossed and turned in bed most of the night. My husband and I can’t help checking our phones for updates, and we talk through all sorts of scenarios. “Do you think I’m elected?” I whisper in the dim light. “Yes, I do,” he replies, running his hand through my hair.
Several times during the night, I text with our lead candidate, who is still at City Hall negotiating. I even talk to him close to four in the morning. There’s coordination to do, after all.
The next morning, the personal votes start coming in from no fewer than 58 polling stations in Denmark’s largest municipality. And it’s looking very good — much better than I had dared hope. But then, suddenly, many hours pass with no new results. The waiting is tough. Only late in the evening does the final result for Copenhagen arrive — the last of the country’s 98 municipalities to finish. 3,780 Copenhageners have voted for me. Far more than expected. It means I’m elected with the 10th highest number of personal votes in all of Copenhagen. A deeply touching and overwhelming outcome for me.
Days later, I received an email from the municipality with a letter confirming that I have been elected. I already knew, of course, but now it’s official. The email is signed by the longest-serving member of the City Council. Next, committee positions need to be allocated within the party group. And then it’s just a matter of waiting until New Year’s, because the new City Council’s term doesn’t officially begin until 1 January 2026. The waiting continues, just with less anticipation and more excitement to make my contribution.
