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How I Moved For Marriage and Divorce Taught Me What I Needed
When I was 28, I quit my job and moved to the US with a K1 Visa to get married.
We had been high school sweethearts. Even though we had primarily been long-distance and broken up once, I had never considered moving out of the country for this reason.
It was the natural consequence of a decade-long friendship that grew into more.
Getting on a plane for the first time was exhilarating. The thought of meeting my fiance at the time powered me through my fears and concerns.
I was leaving my parents and siblings — the life I had built — to go to an unknown land that promised so much. I was afraid things wouldn’t work out, but I suppressed this with excitement.
Nothing beats traveling continents to meet with the love of your life. Right?!
I was wrong.
I felt utterly lost once I landed at the port of entry in New York.
We’re good at hiding fears, aren’t we? No one knew the storm in my heart.
There were no subtitles in the real world, so I had to ask people to repeat themselves. From my name to my accent, everywhere I went was a new introduction. Even learning to put gas in the car was an ordeal- car ownership isn’t a thing in Cameroon.
The things that stressed me out seemed to amuse others, and my skin was too thin to handle it all.
It was no longer just emails, phone calls, and texts with my fiance; it was real-time interactions with no time to cool off or think. I tried to keep the identity I had built in Cameroon, to hold on to who I thought I was. I felt out of place.
I now had to consider a new career path. Nursing was proposed. I considered it, but then I backtracked. I justified my doublemindedness and fear with some pseudo-macho excuse.
