When my fianc was unexpectedly deported from the United States, I found myself faced with a life-altering decision. Rather than allowing this setback to derail our plans, I made the choice to follow him to Mexico, where we ultimately tied the knot. My name is Sydnee Chapman, and this is my story.

This personal account, shared exclusively with Business Insider subscribers, reveals the twists and turns of my life as I navigated the challenges of love, immigration, and personal growth.

My fiancs deportation, compounded by a multiyear ban from re-entering the US, completely derailed the wedding plans we had crafted with so much care. The dreams wed woven together, particularly the ceremony I envisioned in my hometown, slipped away. I was faced with a pivotal choice: should I remain in the US and wait for him to resolve his immigration issues, or should I take the leap and join him in Mexico?

Despite my parents insistence that I should wait and let him handle the immigration process independently, I felt a strong pull to support him. At just 20 years old, I was navigating my first serious relationship, and the decision seemed straightforward to me. If I had already pledged to spend my life with this individual, surely I should stand by him during such a challenging time.

Thus began our journey to plan a wedding in Mexico. However, I soon realized that I might have made a miscalculation. As the wedding date approached, planning became increasingly contentious. Eventually, I decided it was best to focus on completing my freshman year of college, allowing my fianc and his mother to take the reins on the wedding preparations.

A few weeks before the ceremony, I arrived in Tabasco, Mexico, grappling with the unfamiliarity of the intense humidity, the local Spanish dialect, and the cultural nuances of my in-laws. A nagging doubt began to creep in; I lay awake at night tormented by the thought that I might be making a grave mistake. There were moments when I fantasized about hopping in a taxi and heading to the airport, yearning to reclaim the life I had left behind.

However, my youthful stubbornness and desire to please others held me back. I convinced myself that it was too late to back out. I was already in Mexico; the invitations had been dispatched, and the venue secured. Conforming to expectations, I went through with the marriage.

In the years that followed, I split my time between the US and Mexico while I completed my college education. My academic journey took place in Utah, but my heart was irrevocably tied to Mexico. During this time, I never settled in one place for long, often spending holidays and school breaks in the vibrant country. I quickly fell in love with the culture and the friendly people who welcomed me.

I immersed myself in the local customs, learning to prepare traditional dishes like budn de pan and agua de jamaica. I explored ancient Mayan pyramids and swam alongside majestic whale sharks in the Yucatn Peninsula. The rhythm of life in Mexico transformed me, filling my heart with joy as I learned the lyrics to countless Selena songs and danced along to lively banda music.

Conversely, my experiences in the United States were much less fulfilling. My husband and I had envisioned living together permanently, but the uncertainty surrounding his green card application made it impossible to plan for the future. My life felt suspended, caught in a cycle of waiting and hope without any real direction.

As I evolved in my early twenties, it became increasingly clear that my husband and I were not a compatible pair. The thought of divorce crossed my mind several times, yet each time I dismissed it, reasoning that I would be selfish to pursue such a drastic change, especially without having genuinely cohabitated as a married couple.

Ultimately, a particularly enlightening therapy session helped me confront the reality of my situation. I realized I was remaining in the marriage not out of love, but due to a fear of how a divorce would affect everyone around me. Choosing to prioritize my own happiness was a formidable decision, yet it proved liberating.

Years later, my divorce was finalized, and I marked this significant turning point in my life with a tattoo of the North Star on my wrist. This emblem serves as a reminder to trust my own instincts and emotions rather than allowing others to dictate my path.

Today, I am open to the possibility of living abroad again. However, if I do decide to make such a move, it will be guided by my own desires and what feels right for menot what I think others expect or want.