Deported love: couples torn by Trump crackdown

A tearful phone call. A sudden arrest. And a family forced to make an impossible choice.

Janie Pérez’s life was turned upside down in minutes when her husband Alejandro rang to say immigration agents were outside. Moments later, she listened in horror as US Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers detained him.

“We started praying,” she said. What followed would uproot her entire world.

Within months, Janie—a US citizen—would leave everything behind in Missouri and move to Mexico with their two young daughters to reunite her family. It was a leap into the unknown. She does not speak Spanish, but says staying together mattered most.

Their story is part of a growing reality under Donald Trump’s renewed immigration crackdown, launched after his return to office in January 2025.

An estimated 1.1 million US citizens are married to undocumented spouses, many now facing the same agonising dilemma—separation or exile.

Alejandro had lived in the US for around 16 years without legal status. He first entered as a child, later returning unlawfully to escape fears of forced recruitment by criminal groups in Mexico.

Despite building a life and family, his status left him vulnerable—and ultimately led to his arrest.

Janie recalls collapsing to her knees when he was taken. At the detention centre, they pressed their hands together through glass. “We cried together,” she said.

She watched him appear in court shackled at the feet and hands, chained at the waist. “It was heart-wrenching.”

After five months in detention, Alejandro was deported on 11 March. Days later, Janie followed with their daughters, Luna and Lexie.

Their reunion at the airport was emotional. “I had tears of happiness when I saw him again,” she said, while Alejandro described their daughter’s embrace as indescribable.

But the reality of starting again has been harsh. Both say adjusting to life in Mexico has been difficult, with moments that feel surreal and uncertain.

Other couples are making similar decisions—some even before deportation strikes. Raegan Klein convinced her husband Alfredo Linares to leave the US voluntarily, fearing ICE would detain him.

“If something happened to him, I would never forgive myself,” she said.

Alfredo had spent more than 20 years in the US after arriving undocumented at 17. He built a career as a chef and had just opened a restaurant when the crackdown intensified.

Leaving was devastating. “Today is my last day here,” he said through tears in a social media post.

Now living in Puerto Vallarta, the couple face mounting challenges. Income is unstable, work is scarce, and adapting has been tough—even for Alfredo in his country of birth.

Raegan, who does not speak Spanish, has struggled to find remote work.

Despite setbacks, they remain determined to rebuild. Their goal is to open a restaurant—but they lack the funds to make it happen.

Meanwhile, official figures show fewer than 38% of deportees have been charged or convicted of a crime, despite government claims that enforcement targets the “worst of the worst”.

That gap is fuelling debate about who is really being caught up in the crackdown.

As deportations continue, families like the Pérezes are left navigating uncertain futures. Conversations now stretch only weeks ahead, with little clarity beyond that.

For Janie, the choice was clear—but the cost remains steep. A new country. A new life. And a future still taking shape, one day at a time.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cly032z5e71o