u/AkselOG

انا رقم 3 أو ستة. ما احتمل الملابس و أنا نايم..

I lived in an english speaking country for 5 years.

I’m feeling incredibly homesick.
I keep thinking about my last night back home. I knew I was leaving for an unknown amount of time, but I never imagined it would be this long. I thought maybe a year or two, then I’d come back.

That hot July night, I finished packing early.

Clothes. Cigarettes. A few personal things: family photos, some canned food that a friend’s parents sent with me, and a small Quran my mom had quietly tucked into my luggage.
BTW!! Where is that Quran.. I have no Idea haven’t seen it in years..

After packing, I headed to my favorite bar downtown. Bars had just reopened after COVID restrictions. I sat there alone and drank a beer. I remember promising myself that the next time I sat in that bar, I’d be a different person.

Oh boy.. I was right.. If I ever make it back to that bar.. I will be a completely different person..

I was excited. Terrified, but excited. I’d never even been on an airplane before. My biggest fear wasn’t starting a new life,it was getting lost during my layover at the massive Qatar airport.

Beautiful airport, by the way.

Then I left, and I lived my life. The good and the bad.
Honestly, it was mostly good.

But every achievement felt like it was missing something. Every milestone, every victory. Because turns out.. what I really wanted wasn’t just success I wanted to share it with the people I loved.
My parents. My brothers.
That girl, too.
Where is she now, anyway?

My wife made me block her years ago after I told her we used to date. She gets jealous when she finds out I was with other girls before.. I probably should’ve kept that information to myself. Careless as always.

Anyway, this isn’t a post telling people not to leave and chase a life abroad. If I had the choice again, I’d do it all over.
Maybe with fewer mistakes.
But I’d still do it.
What I will say is that there is a price to pay for living ghorba.

When I left, my youngest brother was 12 years old. Just a kid.
He’s 17 now.
Taller than me. Handsome. A grown man.
And I wasn’t there to watch it happen.

So for those who stayed, or those who wanted to leave but couldn’t, trust me when I say there’s a bright side to that too.
The time you spend with your family and the people you love has a value that can’t be measured.
Some things, once missed, can never really be gotten back

I never thought my wife would ever like Tunisian food.
When I met her, her spice tolerance was practically zero. Back when we were dating it wasn't really an issue we ate out most of the time. But the moment we moved in together and I assumed my role as the household's primary cook, the problem became obvious real fast.
She wouldn't like my cooking too spicy. And I wouldn't like hers every time she made white rice, my taste buds were filing a formal complaint and begging for survival.
The only way out was compromise. Which, at this point, is basically the foundation of our entire relationship.
So I started secretly slipping in small teaspoon-sized amounts of harissa into my dishes. Meanwhile I convinced her to add "just a little" spice to her beloved white rice. Slowly but surely, things worked out.
My wife is Persian. Iranian food is honestly delicious meat, veggies, rice, beautifully done. But spicy? Not even close. It leans more sweet than hot.
Yesterday I got a text from her while I was at work. Made me chuckle.

"Habibi… Kosksi w buttermilk (L'ben)?"

I started making the sauce the second I got off work. It was coming along beautifully, until I opened the pantry and realized I was completely out of kosksi.
Oh fuck.
Plan B: Nwasser. And honestly? It worked out great.
She still can't eat a jalapeño to save her life. But a few spoonfuls of harissa? Totally fine now. And me? I've made peace with the occasional white rice with salt and turmeric.

Growth.

Woke up at 8am. 5pm Tunisia time Wife already gone to work. House completely quiet.
Normally? That's paradise. I love her to death, but men and peaceful mornings you know how it is. Today though, the silence hit different. That specific kind of lonely you can't really explain. Just... a void. With a side of sadness.

Eid Kbir was never my favorite holiday growing up. It meant dragging yourself out of bed early after a long night getting baked with your boy, only to spend the whole day getting yelled at by your dad, covered in blood and God-knows-what, hungry, exhausted — and somehow still expected to be festive about it.
I never liked the sight of blood. Still don't. And that sound sheep make when they... yeah. You know the one.
But today was different. This is my 5th Eid away from home. Five years.

I called mom. Eidek mabrouk. She was busy — obviously. I could picture her exactly: hunched over the kitchen counter working through the scraps, the kids screaming in the background, grandma's voice cutting through the chaos, everyone stepping over each other in that beautiful, suffocating way only big Arab families can.
I smiled at the image. And felt completely alone.
Then my friend called. "Hey man, I'm off today too."
We linked up. Wine. BBQ lamb because of course it was lamb and I made Slata Mechouia . Cold beers. Laughed for hours.

By the end of it, it was actually a great day.

But yeah. Still homesick as hell.

ps. used AI to clean up my writing, story and feelings are all real

**Disclaimer:** AI was used for formatting this post. Dates and locations have been generalized for privacy.

**Timeline (Total: ~5 Months)**

* **Priority Date:** Late 2025

* **Biometrics:** Waived

* **Interview Date:** February 2026

* **Post-Interview Status:** "Case is being reviewed" (Update appeared 2 days later)

* **Wait Time:** 58 days of total silence after the interview.

* **Approval:** Mid-April 2026 (I-130 & I-485 approved same day)

* **Card Produced:** 3 days after approval.

* **Card in Hand:** 2 days after production!

### **The Context**

I applied for a Marriage-Based Green Card while I had a pending asylum application. I was incredibly stressed that this situation would lead to a denial or a massive delay. For anyone else in this situation: it is possible, but be prepared for a deep dive into your history.

### **The Interview Experience**

We arrived 30 minutes early at a Major California Field Office but ended up waiting **3 hours** past our scheduled time. A staff member apologized for the delay, but the energy in the room was definitely tense.

The interview was professional but felt "weird" and very scary:

1. **The Focus:** The officer spent very little time on our marriage evidence. Instead, he focused heavily on my past entry into the U.S.and the timeline of my asylum filing versus when I got married.

2. The Separation:In the middle of the I-485 portion, he asked my wife and me to leave the room for 15 minutes. He then called me back in **alone** to ask more detailed questions about my asylum claim and my original visa.

3. The Marriage Check:Finally, he called my wife back in for the "standard" questions: how we met, who attended our wedding, etc.

At the end, he told us he couldn’t approve it on the spot and needed more time for a supervisor to review the entire file.

### **The 58-Day Wait**

The "Case is being reviewed" status stayed stuck for almost two months. No RFEs, no calls—just silence. Given the 2026 processing chatter, I was convinced a denial was coming. Then, out of nowhere, both forms flipped to **Approved**!

### **Evidence Submitted (The "Kitchen Sink" Approach)**

We brought a massive binder. Even though he didn't look at it much, I think having it there showed we were serious:

* **90+ Photos:** Spanning our whole relationship (10 from our small wedding with family).

* **Financials:** Joint bank account (with active direct deposits), joint CCs, and shared 401k/Life Insurance beneficiaries.

* **Legal:**Joint lease, shared utility bills, and

Power of Attorney designations for each other.

* **The "Extra" Mile:** Couples counselor receipts/testimony and letters of support from my wife’s family and our shared friends.

### **Final Takeaway**

If you are adjusting from a pending asylum case: **Do not apply unless your marriage is rock solid. We were together for 3 years at the time of the application**

They will look at every single detail of your history. A good lawyer is a must—mine was present the whole time and it made a huge difference.

I’m so grateful to my wife and so relieved this is over. Good luck to everyone still waiting!