As I opened the email from yet another job I applied for, I saw the three little words that I had come to dread. Unfortunately not selected. I didn’t know how it was possible. I have two master’s degrees and years of experience. It made me question whether my family – including my husband, Nakul*, and two children under 10 – made the right decision to leave our home country, India. For a long time, my life there was comfortable and fulfilling. My husband and I owned our home and ran a business, earning a good income.

Life felt secure, and we never imagined leaving our home country. However, the pandemic changed everything. My husband’s salary was reduced during that difficult period and our business took a significant hit. To make matters worse, both our children fell seriously ill and required hospitalization. The medical bills quickly became overwhelming. It was during this challenging time that we got in touch with a relative in the UK. Despite the global crisis, they were still earning a stable income working from home, which prompted us to reconsider our situation.

After much deliberation, and driven by the prospect of a better life, we made the tough decision to move abroad in search of a more secure future, plowing our £45,000 in savings into our dream. We approached a private immigration agent, who advised me to arrive first on a student visa. I would then start a year-long master’s degree in London and then my family could join me around a month later. I paid £12,500 up front for my degree, £1,000 for visa fees and a further £1,000 for NHS fees for each family member. Not to mention the cost of flights and then rent on top.

Leaving my family behind was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My children, who had never spent a day without me, were suddenly thousands of miles away. I was heartbroken – but I felt I had to try and find a better life. When I landed at Heathrow Airport, my brother-in-law was there to pick me up and the moment I saw my sister-in-law I broke down, hugging her and crying uncontrollably. Two days later I started my master’s but those initial four weeks without my family were profoundly lonely and led to a wave of depression.

I spent time searching for a job while studying. Despite my master’s degree in physics and years of professional experience though, the only work I could find was in a supermarket. Finally, the day I had been waiting for arrived and as soon as my children saw me, they ran to me and hugged me tightly, refusing to let go for several minutes. Life soon started to feel complete again but we also began to face new challenges.

Affordable housing in London was our first big hurdle. When they first arrived the only choice we had was for them to stay with me in the house I shared with nine other people. The four of us squeezed into a single room, which was far from ideal, and it also caused tension with some of my housemates. We tried to keep things as normal and positive as possible for our children, but to avoid conflicts, my husband and I would have to take the kids to the park or the library during the day to keep them engaged and out of the house.

My elder daughter started school not long after and seeing her settle into her new routine, even in the cramped and challenging circumstances we were living in, gave me a sense of hope that we were still moving forward. After tireless efforts, we managed to rent a bigger home in east London and life soon settled into a new rhythm once again. But my husband, despite being qualified to teach physics, took two years to obtain Qualified Teacher Status (QTS). This delay, for reasons we still do not understand, caused immense frustration.

In the meantime, I completed my master’s degree in September 2023. I had to apply for a graduate work visa and had to pay a further £2,000 for each member of my family to remain. We then moved to Leicester and I volunteered as an HR manager for a charity to gain experience and strengthen my CV. Even with all my qualifications and this effort, I still received countless job rejection emails for every role I applied for.

With my husband and I struggling to find employment, we had to dip into our savings and loans to get by. Even when we thought we were taking a step forward – for example, when Nakul passed his driving test and we bought a car – we ended up taking us two steps back as it broke down within months and the dealer refused to take responsibility. I knew this wasn’t sustainable but, thankfully, we finally began to see some progress towards the end of last year.

Nakul’s teaching prospects are looking up, and I was recently offered a part-time HR manager position at the charity where I volunteered. These small victories give me hope that things might improve, but I can’t truly say it has been ‘worth it’ just yet. The past two years have been a whirlwind of financial strain, disappointments, and cultural adjustment. One day, I hope our efforts will be recognised and appreciated by the powers in charge. Until then, we continue to persevere, holding onto the belief that change and acceptance will come.