I met my wife, Natalia, years before I ever imagined becoming a state legislator. Long before that cold November day when she held my hand as I cast my vote and later watched as I was declared the next state representative for our district, we were just two young people in love, trying to build a life together in a country that too often makes it harder than necessary.
Natalia was born in Mexico and entered the United States legally. But like millions of families across this country, we had to navigate an immigration system so complex, so slow, and so punishing that even as a state legislator with access to resources, attorneys, and all the institutional knowledge I could gather, it still nearly broke us.
By the time you read this, my wife will finally have gained legal status. But the truth is, we never should’ve had to fight this hard.
There were nights when she would wake up crying and sweating from the anxiety, the uncertainty, the weight of a process that makes even the most secure relationships feel vulnerable. You may not know what it’s like to hold your wife in the middle of the night while she sobs over an immigration form, but I do. There were nights when I would wake up, too, startled from dreams of her being taken away and stressed from the fear of losing her to a system that too often confuses cruelty for justice. I would turn to see her still lying next to me and feel the flood of relief that she was safe. But almost as quickly, the weight returned in recognition that this was not just a dream we could shake off, but a reality we were living in, and a fight we could not avoid.
And yet, Natalia never let the system harden her. If you’re a regular visitor to the Missouri State Capitol, chances are you know her name. Legislative staff adore her. Lawmakers from both sides of the aisle light up when she walks into the rotunda. Spouses of elected officials ask where she is if I show up without her. Frankly, she’s more popular in Jefferson City than I am.
She is the face of what immigration looks like in real life: not a policy talking point or a border surge graphic, but a warm, brilliant, courageous woman who loves her family and her country, both the one she was born into and the one she chose for herself.
We often hear that the immigration system is broken. What’s left unsaid is that it was broken on purpose. Since day one, the Trump administration has slashed legal immigration pathways, built backlogs by design, and poured acid into the gears of a process that already struggled to function. They made things harder not out of necessity, but out of cruelty.
We need to stop pretending that families like mine are expendable. What my wife and I endured, what millions of couples, parents, and children endure every day, is what happens when politics replaces policy and when fear replaces fairness.
Our story has a happy ending. But it didn’t have to be this hard, and we won’t stop speaking out until every family, no matter where they come from or what they look like, can walk their journey with dignity, without fear, and with a system that sees them not as a threat but as neighbors, parents, spouses, and citizens in waiting.
State Representative for Missouri’s 83rd House District, which includes vibrant communities across the St. Louis region, including Brentwood, Maplewood, Richmond Heights, Shrewsbury, and portions of Affton. He was elected to his first two-year term in November 2024.
