Camila Marques was born in 1982 in Caracas, Venezuela, into a family that lived somewhere between comfort and modesty. They weren’t wealthy, but they had enough to enjoy stability — Sunday lunches together, occasional family trips, and the quiet pride of a home that felt safe. Her parents valued education deeply, and thanks to their sacrifices, Camila attended one of the most prestigious universities in the city, the Universidad Metropolitana. In 2004, she graduated with a degree in Accounting, ready to step into a future that seemed full of promise.

 

Her first major opportunity came not from necessity, but from ambition. She received a job offer abroad — a position in Mexico that included all the paperwork and expenses needed for her relocation. Accepting it meant leaving behind her family and her familiar surroundings, but it also meant stepping into a new chapter with security and excitement. Mexico welcomed her with open arms. She settled in Guadalajara, making new friends and building a social circle that soon felt like family. Her life there was fulfilling — work, gatherings, trips, and occasional visits back to Venezuela during holidays to see her loved ones. She spent five years in Mexico, feeling that she had truly built a second home.

 

Then, life changed abruptly. Camila lost her job, and without the necessary papers to remain legally in Mexico, she had no choice but to return to Caracas in 2015. Stepping back into her old city, she quickly realized it was not the same place she had left. “Once you move abroad, you become a foreigner everywhere, even if you go back to your home country.” She says, quoting something she once read. The streets were more tense, the economy more fragile, and even the people she had once known seemed changed.

 

Her family’s comfortable life began to sink under the worsening economic crisis. They had to let go of the small luxuries they once enjoyed. More relatives, having lost their own homes, moved in with them. Bedrooms were shared, space was limited, and privacy became scarce. While the house was still full of love, the situation was far from easy.

 

Camila knew she could not stay. She began searching for opportunities abroad once more, determined to rebuild her life. That chance came through a friend from her years in Mexico — Daniela — who told her about a job opening at a large tech company in Guadalajara. The position didn’t include relocation expenses, but Camila was unwilling to let the opportunity slip away. Using her savings, she returned to Mexico, staying temporarily in Daniela’s apartment until she could get settled. The first months were challenging, but her persistence paid off. She secured the job, began saving, and eventually rented her own place. With time, she achieved stability again. A few years later, she obtained the legal papers that allowed her to remain in Mexico regardless of her employment status — a milestone that brought her both relief and freedom.

 

Today, Camila owns her own home. She has even managed to arrange legal residency for her parents and cover the costs for them to visit her frequently during the holidays. Looking back, she is filled with gratitude: “I have to thank two people for this: my friend Daniela and God. Without their help, I wouldn’t have been able to move back here.”

 

She concludes this story of perseverance with this quote:

 

“I know my situation is different from other people. But I believe leaving the place you were born is never pleasing. I still consider Venezuela my home, but I’m thankful to this nation that opened its doors to me once again.” Camila’s story is a reminder that while every immigrant’s path is different, their journeys are often marked by the same threads — nostalgia for what was left behind, sacrifices made in silence, and the relentless hard work needed to build a better life.