Personal experience: “I got married to go to America”
In the 90s, like many girls who were disappointed in Russian men, I tried to marry a foreigner. Preferably American. Soon my wish was fulfilled.
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In the late 90s, I got a job at a company that assembled off-road jeeps. Everything was going well. We actively collaborated with several foreign companies. I was the only woman on the team. I knew very little about spare parts, but I spoke good English. Therefore, they took me to the negotiations as a translator.
I was about twenty years old, and I still believed that I would marry only for love. Therefore, she was in no hurry to “press” the first foreigner she met. I was waiting for a man to fall in love with—one who would give me goosebumps.
Soon I met such a person.
Almost an office romance
His name was Don. Tall, thin brunette, slightly over 30 years old. He smiled kindly and a little shyly. He looked very modest, spoke quietly, was reserved and polite.
I was, to put it mildly, a distinguished girl — a typical Russian beauty with long thick braids. Light flirting with foreigners was too familiar to me and was perceived as part of my job.
But Don was different. He did not allow anything unnecessary — neither an empty smile, nor a playful glance, nor ambiguous banter. Intuitively, I felt that I liked him, but what bothered me was that he didn’t show it at all. At first I thought he was married, but that was not the case — Don was single. Then my friends frightened me with suggestions that “my” American might be gay. Then I got serious: I really liked Don, but I didn”t want to waste my time on an unlikely man. The only solution was to take matters into my own hands. I didn’t take the initiative—there was no need for that. But with Don, I had to reconsider my principles.
My initiative was duly received. Soon Don asked me out on a date. And not just anywhere, but in the branded 26-story hotel of the city — “Kazakhstan”. It is in this hotel that foreigners have stayed since the 1970s.
I already knew that he was not gay, so for some reason I was scared. Thanks to my mother”s upbringing, I didn”t have a serious relationship until I was 23.
I accepted Don”s invitation, but with one caveat. I go on dates with friends, not alone. This seemed to draw a line in the sand and I made it clear that it was a no. Don agreed.
I heard somewhere that if you want to ask a friend out on a date, then this friend should be less beautiful than you. But Julia, who was a very close friend of mine at the time, was really beautiful. I noticed this at first, but then I decided. At the same time, let me know how interested he is in me.
Don lived on the 25th floor. When we went up the elevator, I thought: well, everything will be like in the movies. But the date went very well — it was almost friendly. There was no alcohol, and we drank tea with sweets. Don spoke some Russian, but I didn”t understand his language very well, so we spoke English. And I translated for Yulia.
Don was a true gentleman. He paid attention to both of us, but Julia felt that, despite his beauty, he was not particularly interested.
By the end of the date, I realized that I was in love. We continued to meet — without Yulia, of course. We soon became close, and then our relationship moved to a new level.
Lapping
Thus, my mother’s moment ceased to be alive, and I lived alone in a huge “three-wing” in an elite area of Almaty. Don moved from the hotel to me.
As the happiness slowly began to drain from my emotions, much to my horror, I began to realize that I wasn”t very comfortable being around him.
In everyday life he was quite strange. What surprised me most was that he threw a white shirt with black socks into the washing machine. He then sat down on the other side of the machine and waited until they saw him.
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When I tried to talk to him as delicately as possible, he commented on this, became embarrassed, and said that he was used to living alone.
Don was also obsessed with hats and shoes. He was originally from California, but lived in New York, and Alma-Ata Frost scared him a little.
They bought him hats and warm coats at the flea market. He used to wear things for fun, but now he wants to get dressed and go out. First he put on his hat, then his boots. As he leaned forward, his hat fell off his head. He picked her up and put his head on her again, she fell again, and he picked her up again, and again, and again.
When we arrived at the store, I bought chicken eggs. I wanted to put them in the refrigerator, but Don saw that some of them were dirty and ugly and took the bag to the bathroom. Hearing splashing, I followed him and watched as he carefully washed all the eggs with soap. He was not so wrong, but at the time they seemed like wild lies to me.
But these were all “flowers”. It turned out that Don has a rather evil tongue. He could easily anger me: I would somehow flare up and move on. He quickly caught up with me and apologized. But a minute later he told me that I was fat and would only marry me when I lost weight.
It was insulting, but I really wanted to go to America. On Yulia’s advice, I bought Chinese-made diet pills and lost more than 10 kilograms in one month. Don kept his promise: as soon as I got into shape, he proposed to me.
Wedding and departure
We got married in Almaty. They signed their names and went to celebrate the mountain holiday. Don was so sweet and attentive. I felt like Cinderella and was sure that I had found my happiness.
Soon Don had to leave for the USA. He called and sent faxes every day. He told me that he was very bored, and I myself felt that he really wanted him. When we were away from each other, our relationship improved. Don did not humiliate himself, did not joke or attack me with compliments.
Immigration to the USA through marriage/how to prepare for marriage with an American and not get into trouble fiance visa
I was waiting for an invitation to apply for a visa. However, there were problems with this. The company I worked for was suddenly dissolved, and Don also had something strange about his work (he didn”t say exactly). I got a job in the civil service.
Our “Roman letter” followed the wedding. It was my only outlet during those difficult times.
Soon everything went smoothly. Don sent invitations and I was immediately issued a US visa. I cried at the airport: I was sure that I was leaving forever.
Don picked me up at the New York airport and we went to his house. On the way, he told me that he had lost his job and sold his house in California. This made me nervous, but he reassured me — he said that he had found another job. I learned much later that he got a job as a mine clearer.
After the conference, when the euphoria subsided, everyday life began. We lived in a small apartment that was difficult to clean. Don was used to throwing things away, and I gradually got tired of cleaning up after him, like a child. For some reason, his desire to create comfort irritated me.
In fact, on “his” turf, he was more rude—he was always rude to me. He”d show up late to work without warning, but at the same time, he controlled my every move.
Soon, he started accusing me of spending too much money at the store. I never wasted money. The “90s taught me to save, but Don complained about every “extra” cent, like Prishchepkin.
I also wanted to find a job, but he forbade it. He also forbade me from going outside without him. Soon, I felt like a prisoner.
The finale happened on Christmas Eve. I decorated the tree, and Don didn”t like the way I decorated it. He flared up and started showing me how his mother used to do it. The whole process was accompanied by insults directed at me. I cried because I couldn”t stand it. In response, Don grabbed the tree and swung it at me. I ran into another room, gathered my things, grabbed my passport, and left. I wandered around New York for a long time. Then I was lucky enough to meet some good people, Bill and Jane. They helped me get home.
Back home
At home
He actually came. He met a girl and lived with her to avoid paying hotel bills.
I remember the trial like a nightmare. The scariest thing was looking into the eyes of the person close to me, the one who had once sworn his love to me. And now he wanted to take away the last thing I had.
Luckily, the court ruled in my favor. Don promised to appeal the decision and soon returned to the US. I was prepared for the phone bombing, but he didn”t call.
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