I moved 1,500 miles to be with my deported husband
I moved 1,500 miles to be with my deported husband
A Choice Beyond Borders
Janie Pérez never expected her life to shift dramatically after her husband, Alejandro Pérez, was detained by ICE agents. The morning of the incident, she was surprised when he called her shortly after departing for work. His voice trembled as he relayed the news: “I think ICE is here.” The couple had been living in Missouri, but within hours, their world changed.
Though she didn’t speak Spanish, Janie’s decision to leave the U.S. for Mexico with her husband and their two young daughters, Luna and Lexie, felt inevitable. “There is nothing more important than being together,” she insists, despite the challenges of rebuilding her life in a foreign land. Her husband’s deportation, however, was not just a personal loss—it reflects a growing trend among mixed-status families, where one spouse is a U.S. citizen and the other is undocumented.
A Journey of Fear and Hope
Alejandro’s path to the U.S. began in childhood. Born in Michoacán, Mexico, he entered the country unlawfully at age seven with his father. The family returned to Mexico shortly after, but years later, Alejandro chose to come back, driven by fear of recruitment into criminal gangs—a risk many young men in his region faced.
He spent 16 years in the U.S. as an undocumented migrant, working in various jobs to support his family. Despite his efforts, the Trump administration’s focus on cracking down on illegal immigration left him vulnerable. “They prioritized removing those with criminal records,” notes the Department of Homeland Security, yet 38% of deportees have no criminal history, according to recent data.
A Love Tested by Policy
Janie and Alejandro met in 2019 at a café, where they both worked—she as a waitress, he as a cook. Their bond deepened through shared faith, a cornerstone of their relationship. “He was a man of faith, and that meant a lot to me,” she recalls. When they married, they sought legal status for Alejandro, but the process stalled. “We tried to go on with our lives,” she says, until his arrest by ICE shattered their hopes.
“I fell to the ground on my knees, crying uncontrollably,” says Janie, 29, describing the moment she learned of her husband’s detention. She visited him at the detention center, their hands pressed against glass as they wept together. “We couldn’t touch each other, but the connection was still there.”
Rebuilding in a New Land
Though the move to Mexico was daunting, Janie remains resolute. “Separating our family was simply inconceivable,” she explains. The couple now navigates a life unfamiliar to them, yet their commitment endures. For many in similar situations, the choice between staying in the U.S. and reuniting with their partners is a painful one. “He made a morally correct decision,” Janie argues, “seeking a better life away from the threats of criminal organizations.”
As the U.S. continues its efforts to curb illegal immigration, families like theirs are forced to confront the consequences of policy. With over 1.1 million citizens married to undocumented spouses, the emotional and logistical toll of separation is profound. For Janie, the distance is worth it. “We chose each other,” she says, “even if it meant leaving everything behind.”