Yesterday we had to take the day off work and catch a dawn-o-clock train to Glasgow.
The mission? Avoid getting deported.
Currently, I am granted leave to remain in the UK because my big important job sponsors me to stay (they even had to write the government and say no one else in Europe could do my job as well as me to prove I wasn't stealing work from EEA nationals and everything).
Which means the day I stopped working there, I technically would have been an illegal alien.
So, after much agonising discussion (after all, we are planning to leave, it's just a question of timing) - we decided I needed a visa that let me live and work until we finally board the plane and wave goodbye.
Which meant in government terms form FLR(M). Or, a marriage visa.
The UK government is all up with modern life and so this form is for anyone married, civil partnered, or "living in a relationship akin to marriage".
So, yesterday we traipsed to the Border Agency with our bank statements and tax forms and proof we live together for the past few years and had our own pseudo-civil-service.
We had to sign a bit of paper saying we intended to stay in this committed relationship. This was promising the government that we are Us, and will be from here on out.
It could just be an ID card that means I'm not deported.
But actually, it's a pretty big fucking deal.
Because for me, it's the same promise as married. One I already made in my heart, I just finally said it out loud.
Being legally bound doesn't change anything, yet it is more than just a document. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like I made a big step yesterday.
A momentous moment, thrown into relief by the shitty cubicle in the dodgy office complex in which it took place.
And yet perfectly highlighted by its weirdness. How he held my hand in the creepy waiting room. How I chatted to the security guards to help ease the formality (and tension in his shoulders). How we made weird faces and silent conversation about the menagerie around us, including the adorable toddler and the insane mail order bride. How we came home to collapse in a sleepy heap and have celebratory cheesecake straight from the tin.
How no matter how weird or hard or exhausting the process is, at the end of the day we're still two little beans in our little bean pod. Just the way it should be.
3 comments:
Love, love, love!
Our legal ceremony at the courthouse took place in the messy office of the "marriage commissioner." He mumbled the state-mandated text while counting the money we'd just paid (he only took cash). We could barely keep straight faces. It was one of the best days of my life.
I am so happy for you two.
Congratulations!
I'm trying to move to London to be with my guy. I'm attempting to become a German citizen in order to have an EU Passport, which would allow me to live and work in the UK without a visa... but I don't know if it's going to work.
My boyfriend's friend suggested that we should get married so that we can continue to date. Not a valid option to me. I'd love to marry him someday, but I want it to be for romantic and practical reasons, not legal ones.
red tape never ceases to amuse in any country does it Heidi? le sigh. Still, the outcome is totally worth it.
I agree Ang, we keep talking about getting married but it's just not the same if we're doing it for someone else's reasons. Though, doesn't stop us planning it every now and again :)
I'm just glad we live in a country that recognises the commitment we have made as one worth staying for.
(and good luck with your situation!)
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