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I write this while I try to pull myself together, at least enough to make sense of my own words. I write this with
sadness and frustration; with a mixture of helplessness and anger that words just can’t express properly. A
couple of years ago I met a wonderful man, we met in a way that has become more and more usual
nowadays, we met in a chat-room. When we first met we were both attached to someone else, we became
close friends. Due to my relationship at the time I broke contact with him for a while and when we started
chatting again he had broken up with his long-time girlfriend. We were in contact on and off, always keeping
in touch but never getting too close. However he was there for me when I needed him the most and in turn I
was there for him to help him throughout quite a depression. When both our lives cleared up, as it turns out,
we were in love. Things weren’t easy since he is a Dane and I’m Mexican. The distance, the cultural
differences, hell even connection issues with internet kept putting strain on our relationship however we
survived it all because we simply loved each-other. How could we love so much being so far away? We were
our true selves. When you talk to someone daily for 2 to 6 hours a day for a bit over two years there’s not
much you can hide.
Finally after a lot of struggle and much heartache we were able to get together. I moved to Copenhagen with
a tourist visa and we started our life together. Alas, I’m 23 years old and in Denmark I have to be 24 in order
to be able to live here under family reunification. It doesn’t help that I’ve been working since I was 16 or that
I’m willing to continue working here. It doesn’t help that soon he’ll graduate and he’ll be a pharmacist. It
doesn’t help that we’re now married and it doesn’t help that I would put my heart and soul into being part of
this country if I was given the chance. I don’t wish to be a leech in a country that in such a little time I’ve
grown quite fond of in spite of some of it’s policies. I wish to be an integral member of society, learn the
language, work, and pay my taxes. I guess you could say I’m too proud to live off of welfare. However I could
express myself in a thousand different ways and it still wouldn’t mean a thing because I am a minority. I
never wished to leave my country and many times I miss it so deeply it brings me to tears however I know
that my husband’s possibilities for growth are much better here so I agreed for our residence to be here.
As I mentioned previously I arrived here with a tourist visa which has since then expired and after that we
chose to apply to the family reunification program because while our chances are slim to none at least it lets
us dream a bit while we look for a place in Malmö. It has been draining and I’m tired, I am so very tired. As
we filled out the application for family reunification I simply broke down. Placing yourself in a piece of paper,
placing yourself as nothing but a simple stream of information, being scrutinized while knowing you will most
likely fail the “test” due to what is just a number is to put it in one word humiliating. I wish I could describe
how it can make you feel, how at some point your mind starts to wonder how can a system that holds itself
so highly make you feel like you have something wrong namely that you are a minority and you are
unwanted. Is as if from one day to another, just by crossing a mass of water I acquired some sort of illness
and I had to be quarantined, tested and exiled. Maybe my words seem too harsh for the situation but the
feelings you get from something like this are so extreme that they’re difficult to put down. Is it so bad for two
people to be in love? Am I not a good person just because I don’t fit a specific criteria, a specific set of rules
which make sense only in a skewed manner?
Now we’re working against the clock, we’re searching for an apartment which isn’t easy to find nowadays.
We’re placing more stress on ourselves than we should because a bunch of people don’t fit me worthy. I’m
not being judged as a person but as a number, a thing and therefore there are times I can’t sleep because
we haven’t found a home yet and because the journey is still far from over. I’m tired of feeling guilty for
placing my lovely husband in this situation even when time and time again he assures me that he would be
as much to blame for this but I know that neither of us is guilty of anything. Still, seeing him so tired, so
worried, and so tense; it just tears my heart to pieces and so I feel guilty. I wish I could do more but my
hands are tied. I want to bring an income to our home but that would be illegal. I want to ease the load he
has on his shoulders but all I can do is help him lean on me while I feel my own strength growing thinner. And
so as I dry my tears and go back to bed to try to get some sleep can anyone please explain to me how can
someone out there be so happy with themselves for placing a law that can cause so much pain and
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