Would you consider putting yourself up for a dream job a second time which you had previously lost, particularly having experienced the harsh unpleasantness that can be par for the course?

After reading Annunziata Rees-Mogg’s account in today’s Sunday Times, I wouldn’t have blamed her from wanting to turn her back on political life.  But she didn’t give it a second thought. Of course, she was up for it. Her passion for politics and loyalty to the Conservative Party left her in no doubt that she should put her name forward as an aspiring candidate, even though she was the new mother of a new baby, now three-months-old.

Yet the Conservative Party decided she no longer ticked all the right boxes and they rejected her application. I hope she is given a full explanation at the very least. This is supposed to be an era of compassionate politics, and Conservatives should look after “their own” too.

Thankfully, there are other Conservative women with fire in their belly, like Louise Bagshawe MP, who is not afraid to speak out against this decision and is campaigning for it to be reversed.

This is Annunziata’s article in the Sunday Times.  I’ve reprinted her report in full because it gives a fascinating insight of what goes on behind the scenes for a political candidate. She has every right to feel let down by the Conservative Party. Would you still want to be an MP if you had had the same experiences? I truly admire Annunziata’s strength of character in not being put off.

Politics has been in my life for as long as I can remember. As a child I thought it was normal to have my father, who was chairman of the Arts Council at the time, ridiculed on Spitting Image as a slobbering puppet caricature. Equally, it seemed perfectly reasonable to me that every Christmas I would go to a friend’s party where members of the Tory cabinet such as Kenneth Clarke dressed up as Father Christmas, sat me on their knee and presented me with a small gift from under the tree.

When David Cameron became leader in 2005 I was delighted when he made it known that he was determined to improve the Tories’ image. He compiled an A-list of “priority” candidates: lots more ethnic minorities and women.

Sadly, I wasn’t on this first A-list, though I was added in time to apply for my local seat. Despite this, when the Somerton and Frome local party selected me as its candidate to fight the 2010 general election, I was banned from speaking to the press. Maybe, because I was posh and seen as a right-wing Eurosceptic, the party thought I didn’t fit in with the new image. I wasn’t even allowed to mention the ban — a bit like a super-injunction — but when it was lifted a year later the Conservative campaigns press office decided I might be an asset.

The party started hawking me out to the press as a young female candidate. It was its idea to put me, along with wannabe MPs such as Joanne Cash, Nicola Blackwood and Shaun Bailey, into a shoot for Tatler magazine. The hope was that it would make us look glamorous and modern. But the plan backfired. We were seen as unapproachable toffs. Ever since, the press office has denied that it was its own idea and one it had forcefully insisted upon.

I lost the election in Somerton and Frome in 2010 but it was close — I took 44% of the vote. Undeterred, I hoped to fight again in the next general election. But two weeks ago there arrived a courteous letter from the chairman of the candidates committee, which is charged with choosing candidates. It explained that I did not meet the criteria of the “assessment process”. My initial disbelief soon turned to anger. I had given up my career as a financial journalist and spent my life savings on being a Conservative candidate: it seemed extraordinary that this was not appreciated.

There are various tests you have to pass before the Conservatives will allow you to stand as an MP; up until then I had passed them all. I am not certain how, in February, I failed in a 20-minute interview to display “energy and commitment, campaign leadership and motivation, conviction, manner and attitude, depth and intellect, communication and ability to relate to people or commitment to inclusion and diversity”. But apparently I did.

Speculation is rife as to the “real” reason for my being omitted from the new list. Some believe it is a purge of the right wing, of Eurosceptics, of posh people, or of those who speak their mind. Others think it is the curse of that Tatler Tory photoshoot.

In 2010 I was at a fundraising lunch when Cameron gave a speech in which he suggested I change my name to Nancy Mogg. “I have very little power as leader of the opposition; one thing I should be able to choose is the name of my candidates,” he joked. We talked after the speech and he told me he “loved the name Nancy”, which was why he had given it to his daughter. I said that, while it was a nice name, it was not mine.

Still, I doubt that Cameron is personally intervening to stop me becoming an MP — he’s not regarded as a petty man. However, politics can be petty. You need the hide of a rhino. From the outset my unusual name, my family’s profile and my privileged upbringing meant I was in for it.

After I appeared on Newsnight with my brother Jacob (MP for North East Somerset) to discuss the A-list, one blogger, “Anonymous”, posted: “I saw Jacob and the Annunciation on a BBC telly programme once and nearly vomited up my dinner … Jacob was in his investment w****** type role, no doubt due to his surname. Whereas his dahling sister was having a crisis over some dinner party disaster … Bugger me senseless with a wire-brush, all the work done to ‘decontaminate the Tory brand’ flushed down the khazi in a jiffy.”

Indeed, nothing is out of bounds for those who comment on these political websites — from speculation as to what my underwear smells like to discussions of my physique.

The anti-posh sentiment is rife. At one hustings during the general election campaign my Labour opponent suggested that a Bentley parked outside was mine. In fact I had been given a lift in a 1992 Fiat, which had such bad dents that you couldn’t open one of the doors.

Looking on the bright side, the letters of support I have had brought tears to my eyes. “Do not give up — I can think of few people who would make a better MP,” read one.

And, truth be told, at 32 I can bide my time. I still want to be an MP and will continue to support the Conservatives wherever I can. But one thing trumps my desire to serve local people. My joy right now is being the mother of a three-month-old. And she doesn’t yet blog against me.

Of course I know why she wants to do it, being an MP is one of the most special and privileged jobs anyone can have. It’s in her blood, and she deserves another chance. At the very least let her go on the approved candidates’ list, and then it’s up to local associations to decide whether she is selected.

Good luck Annunziata.