This Valentine’s Day, we asked people to share how they’ve been touched by immigration and the love that would not have been possible without it. From cheesy first lines, to love across embargoes, to renaissance besties, and folks connected through caregiving, here are some of their stories.
“My husband and I are both immigrants. We are from different countries and arrived as children within a couple years of each other. It seems as though our lives were meant to intertwine, but we kept missing each other. He lived in the same complex just after my family moved out and we had mutual interests. It was not, however, until I returned home from college that we found each other. Thirty-eight years later fate or destiny has kept us together. My immigration journey has been seamless compared to his. My family was recruited to emigrate to fill a professional need and he was brought and abandoned as a child by an abusive American stepparent. His immigration journey remains a struggle four decades later. Through it all, we remain grateful that we have each other- his tumultuous journey gives me empathy and my stability gives him comfort and occasional hope. Did I mention that we were married on Valentine’s Day?” – Ana R.
“One of my absolute best friends is a Dreamer. We bonded over our shared love for a particularly cringe webcomic. Every time I hang out with her, I’m amazed how great she is and grateful that she talked to me while she was at work to ask about the characters on my wallet. This girl is now one of my best friends and I can’t imagine going to the renaissance faire with anyone else.” – Margaret D
“My husband and I have been married nearly 20 years. We met on Christmas in Havana, Cuba. I went to go find my roots and found my husband. There was an embargo in place, so the blockade prevented us from seeing each other or even speaking on a regular basis. I saw very similar things in him that I knew about myself. I was willing to take the chance I did not know what I was getting myself into. All these years later, we have created a business that’s well known we’re trying to expand. He is such a hard worker. He was one of the lucky ones. On the day of his swearing in to be an American at his naturalization ceremony, he was pulled over by a police officer, and we told him that we were on our way for him to become a United States citizen and he wrote us a ticket and said welcome to America. We would not be together if it wasn’t for immigration.” – Heather R.
“My husband was visiting the U.S. from Argentina to help his family open up a business here. He joined a local Men’s Rugby team with a coach from England, who was an aerospace engineer like him, that offered for him to work under a work visa. A few months later, the rugby guys invited him to spend his first Labor Day weekend in the states with them in Key West. I had arranged a trip with a bunch of friends that same weekend to Key West. That first night I met my future husband. He was genuine and worldly, dark, tall and handsome with these beautiful amber colored eyes. My grandparents were also immigrants so we shared the same language and similar culture. I fell in love with him pretty quickly. He is funny, super intelligent, an optimist to a fault and an incredible brother, son, husband and father. The first year we dated he sent me a poem every Wednesday. After one year together he typed up each poem and had them bound in a book. Two years later we married and a few years later we had our three boys. My husband and I would not have met today under the current administration. He is the love of my life and I can’t imagine a life with anyone else. – Kelly D
“I became a ‘Valentine’ 45 years ago on Valentine’s Day. I married my late, beloved husband, Alfred who immigrated from Jamaica. I am thankful to God, we enjoyed 23 years together. That Jamaican immigrant was the love of my life.” – Jessa V.
“I’m a disabled woman and 21 years ago one of my aides introduced me to someone who was an immigrant. Four years later we married. At that time, he was undocumented so we took steps to get him a Green Card. He is a kind, helpful person who works at a local plant. Two years later he became a legal resident. Now, because of the politics here, my husband wants us both to emigrate to Mexico, his homeland. We wonder if we can hold out until the next president, when we believe these indiscriminate deportations will stop. We now suffer from a daily fear that ICE will soon be at our door.” – Serena J.
“My husband is an immigrant from Morocco. I met him one night heading into a restaurant with a friend as he was coming out. He exclaimed “look at the beautiful girl”. Cheesy line? Totally worked. We will be married 30 years this year. He came here alone at 20. Morocco had little to offer young people for their futures. So he came here and worked really really hard. And built a life for all of us.” – Barbara E.
“My parents met after my mother moved to Tampa from New Jersey. She had been in Jersey since she was 15 and before that, Cuba. They married and then had me in 1973. It was 10 years after that they found out that they had actually first met in Cuba. My mother was helping her uncle at his ice cream malt shop and dad was working for Sears (yes, THAT Sears) and he was there for lunch and he recalled seeing a very young girl that matched my mom’s description behind the counter. It was kismet. They were together for 45 years until my dad passed away and were madly in love with each other until the very end.” – Emilio D.
“When I was nine years old, my mother made the hardest decision of her life. She left our country to escape domestic violence and extreme poverty, carrying nothing with her but love, hope, and the belief that her sacrifice could change my future. For years, her love crossed borders before I ever could. Almost a decade later, she brought me to the United States, reuniting us and giving me the chance to finish college. That opportunity changed everything. It allowed me to build a life, find my voice, and eventually become an award-winning journalist. Immigration isn’t just part of my story; it is my story. It lives in my work, in my family, and in the community I’ve built. My business exists because of it. My children exist because of it. My husband is Russian. I am Mexican. My mother was undocumented. My business partner is a DACA recipient. Every single one of my employees is an immigrant. This is what love looks like. Love that migrates. Love that sacrifices. Love that believes in a future it may never fully see, but builds it anyway. This Valentine’s Day, I honor the love letters written through courage, resilience, and the quiet promise of a better tomorrow.” – Viri V.
“I met my partner while traveling in Southeast Asia. They were visiting from Denmark and I from the U.S. We briefly met at a bar and immediately hit it off. After spending just two days hanging out, we knew something special was there and agreed to remain in contact. That quickly progressed to me visiting them in Denmark for two weeks followed by a 6-month long-distance relationship. Now, 4 years later, after more long-distance and various stints as residents abroad, we’re married. From the moment we decided to be together, we realized that our relationship would be impacted by the immigration systems of our home countries. Although navigating immigration has not been easy, we wouldn’t choose to be with anyone else. Love surpasses all borders.” – Leslie R.
My own life is full of immigrant love stories, too. My parents – one side from Egypt and the other from Sicily – met at the restaurant my grandfather started up when he got here. My mom was waitressing and my dad kept coming back to see her. Years later, my parents owned and operated that restaurant together and had us four girls.
In my twenties, I lived with several housemates and met one of my best friends and soulmates. We bonded partly over our immigrant backgrounds, her parents from China. Soon after, I met my husband, another first-generation kid whose parents were both refugees from Afghanistan. It was his best friend who introduced us – yet another first-generation kid of refugees, his parents from Cambodia.
Shortly after my husband and I married, I was inducted into the cousins WhatsApp chat, jokingly called ‘the United Nations’ as the diaspora spread literally around the world, with folks from various countries marrying in.
Every time I get a ping, I’m reminded of how connected we are, despite the hateful policies that try to keep us apart. Our love is stronger.