Today, I broke down. The immigration process has been heavy on my heart for a few years, but this was different. It wasn’t just another rule or decision, it was about my family, about being kept apart from the people who mean the most to me.
Let me take you back to where this all started. When I moved here, I immediately began the family reunion process to bring my daughters to join me. We’ve always been together; my girls and I. But the system had other plans. Despite everything I tried, one of my daughters was denied the family reunion visa. I can’t even begin to explain what that felt like. The separation was a heartbreak I wasn’t prepared for. While her sisters and I tried to settle into our new life, she was left to figure out hers, and that’s how she ended up moving to the UK to further her studies. It wasn’t the path we had planned, but she had to move forward somehow.
Over a year has passed since then, and the distance hasn’t gotten easier. This Christmas, we thought we’d finally have the chance to be together again; we applied for a visa so she could visit us for the holidays… a chance to sit together, share long chats, catch up on the latest gossip, and laugh face-to-face instead of over the phone (though I’m grateful we even have that option).
But today, the consulate gave their decision: a visa for just four days. Four days! Not even enough for her to spend Christmas with us. When I got the news, I cried. I cried because it felt like I was losing her all over again.
This isn’t just about her growing up or starting her own life. It’s about the fact that a process… a paper, a decision from someone basically controls when we can see each other. It’s about knowing I can’t say, “Come visit me,” without worrying about rules, timelines, and approvals.
And it’s made me question everything. Is this move, this integration, worth it? Worth the cost of having my family divided? Worth the pain of not knowing when I’ll see her again? Some days, it doesn’t feel like it is. Today is one of those days. My heart feels so heavy, knowing that my daughter can’t come home for Christmas, for my birthday, for New Year—just because someone decided four days was enough.
There’s so much more to say about the family reunion process and everything we went through. That’s a story for another day. But today, I’m sitting with this feeling, this ache of being a mother caught between two places, wondering if this dream of a better life has taken too much.
For anyone else going through this, I see you. I feel your pain. We do everything that’s asked of us… follow the rules, play by the system…and yet, the cost still feels unbearable. I hope that someday, these systems will recognize the human side of immigration and find a way to keep families together without taking so much from us.
