I married a man I’d known for 6 months to be with him in the US. It didn’t work out.

I was 30, a British-South African expat living her best life in Zurich, when I was unexpectedly and entirely swept off my feet by a Swedish knight in shining armour.

The day we met, I knew deep in my bones that my life was about to change forever. We spent an hourslong brunch together, followed by strolling the city with mutual friends he was visiting for the weekend from London.

“I’m going to marry that guy,” I said calmly to myself, back in my apartment at the end of the day. I was right. I just had no idea that the US Homeland Security was going to help make it happen.

Our long-distance love story

What followed were weeks of flirty messages followed by several months of flights back and forth — first between Zurich and London and eventually Minneapolis, where he moved for work. He met my parents in Cape Town, and I met his in Stockholm.

While our global rendezvous were ridiculously romantic, we wanted a normal life together.

So, about five months into our long-distance love story, I decided to quit my job (I’d been wanting to move on for a while) and take a few months out in Minneapolis to see if we were still loved up after spending more than a couple of weeks in the same space.

I said my temporary goodbyes in Zurich, locked up my apartment, and the knight and I jumped on a plane together, bound for Minneapolis.

The event that changed my life

We were giddy with excitement in the immigration line at the airport, where I’d been many times before. However, this time, when I handed over my passport and enthusiastically told the immigration officer I was here to stay with my boyfriend for a while, things took a turn.

I was quickly shuffled into a secondary area for further questioning. At this point, I wasn’t panicking. I’d done nothing wrong. I had a return flight within the 90-day limit, and didn’t need a visitor visa as a British citizen. I had a sister in Florida, and had visited her countless times for long periods. I’d never had any issues.

This time, though, US Homeland Security wasn’t so sure. When my luggage and laptop were taken from me to be searched — that’s when I started to panic.

Two hours and some serious interrogation later, the immigration officer (let’s call her Cindy) who was interrogating me told me she would not be allowing me into the US that day. I didn’t get a specific reason. Perhaps it was because I no longer had a job back in Zurich, or was entering via a different city this time. I’ll never know.

I was fingerprinted, gave a statement, had a couple of minutes to say a shaky goodbye to the knight, and was promptly marched back onto the plane I arrived on, headed back to Zurich.

I was shocked, angry, and exhausted. A couple of hours into the flight, the chief purser handed me back my passport, which had been kept from me until we cleared US airspace. He said I shouldn’t feel too bad since people are denied US entry “more often than you think.” I finally burst into tears.

Starbucks lovers

A week later, the knight was back in Zurich with me. His boss, who knew about what happened, had allowed him to work from Zurich for as long as needed and even gave us access to top immigration lawyers. Their advice? Get married. It would be our best shot at resolving this.

So, over coffee on a Sunday morning in Starbucks, we decided to do just that. It wasn’t the stuff of fairytale proposals, but we chose to see the whole drama as divine intervention. The Universe did not want us to wait to be together forever. I couldn’t help think, “Thank you, Cindy!”

We got married within weeks, with two city hall employees we’d never met as witnesses. Shortly thereafter, immigration lawyers helped me obtain a spousal visa, and my new husband and I planned our trip back to the US.

Life in the US

Arriving in the US with my shiny new visa and husband, I was warmly welcomed compared to the last time.

It took me a while to settle into Minneapolis, but after a few months, I started to find my groove.

I met some nice people and bought the most hardcore winter gear I’d ever owned (and I’ve lived in Alp land). I took long walks around beautiful lakes (and across frozen ones in winter, which blew my mind) and found the best cinnamon buns I’d ever tasted. I joined the American Swedish Institute, learned to like ice hockey, discovered the surprising delight of summer in Minneapolis, and had my first real Fourth of July experience on a boat on Lake Minnetonka.

It wasn’t New York, Los Angeles, or some of the more glamorous US destinations, but Minneapolis felt real, and I liked it.

Trouble in paradise

The knight and I had a great life, for a while.

However, as the high of our whirlwind romance and the novelty of being together in a new place began to wear off, real life set in. It turned out that we were more into the fairytale versions of one another and marriage than reality.

It’s no surprise that giving up your happy life for someone (no matter how smitten you both are) puts a ton of pressure on a relationship. Immigration drama, getting married, moving overseas — all within six months of meeting — is a lot.

Almost three years to the day after we got married, we got divorced. It was amicable, but still sad. Would things have been different if we hadn’t gotten married so quickly? If we’d stayed in Europe? Or if we’d met later in life? I’ve mostly made peace with not knowing those answers.

I have a great dinner-party story now

Many years later, I can look back and laugh about my experience. It’s certainly an entertaining story. However, it’s not an exaggeration to say that the experience changed my life forever.

It led to my marriage and divorce — two pretty big life events that will always be part of my story and that I’d never want to erase.

Sadly, losing my marriage also meant losing my spousal visa and ability to live in the US. And since I’ve been denied entry into the US, I can no longer use the Visa Waiver Program, as I’d always done to visit my family.

It’s been 16 years since I visited my sister, nieces, and nephew in the US, and 17 years since Cindy unknowingly changed my life forever. I tried once to get a visitor visa two years after my divorce, and it was denied. Perhaps it’s time to try again.

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