My husband, Shahrokh, proposed in early 2009. We met two years earlier at Sarita’s Mexican Restaurant in San Antonio where he was working as a server.During one of my visits to the restaurant, I was reading a book in preparation for a trip I was taking to Washington, D.C., and we spoke for the first time when he asked me about Washington and why I was going.
After chatting for a while, he asked for my phone number so that he could take me on a date. I asked him for his number instead, telling him I would call after I returned. I kept my word, and we began dating shortly after.
We were married on Oct. 20, 2009, at the Justice of the Peace with family, friends and some co-workers present. I wore an off-white skirt suit, and he wore a brown dress shirt and pants. I had corsages ordered for the occasion instead of a bouquet.
After the ceremony, we went for lunch at a French restaurant and ate cake. It was one of the happiest days of my life. Our love story feels like a fairy tale.
But our happily ever after came under attack on June 22, 2025, when my husband was taken from our home. Officers with the Department of Homeland Security came to the house, placed Shahrokh in handcuffs, and arrested him in front of our 12-year-old daughter and our neighbors. Since then, he has been incarcerated in three different immigration detention facilities.
A dreamer, Shahrokh had visions of owning his own little restaurant. We purchased a small taco shop in San Antonio. It was a difficult and draining experience, but he loved it. Often working long hours, we spent every free moment we could together.
We built a life. Like any couple, we faced many challenges, especially those surrounding Shahrokh’s immigration status, as he had entered the U.S. in 2003 without inspection.
We discussed marriage, and he let me know he was very scared to make the commitment due to his status. He felt he was a burden, living in constant fear of being taken away and did not want to weigh me down. He was constantly scared of people turning him into immigration and sending him back to Iran.
Then, in 2010, an immigration judge granted Shahrokh a form of immigration relief called “withholding of removal,” which means that the government could not deport him to Iran because he has established that he is more likely than not to be persecuted or tortured there. Instead, he was released with an order of supervision.
For the past 15 years, Shahrokh has lived freely in the United States and has complied with every condition of his release, diligently attending his regular check-ins. Little did we know his worst fears would still become reality, when government officials came to our house and arrested him despite his stellar record.
I have known Shahrokh for 18 years now, and I am devastated by his detention. Our daughter and I miss my husband dearly, and she’s constantly telling me she wants her dad.
Over the last year, many lives have been reduced to headlines, terms like “legal” and “illegal,” and other baseless statistics which fuel disinformation and do not capture the humanity of those involved. But for those of us whose lives are at stake, our loved ones cannot be reduced.
Shahrokh is a devoted and loving father to our daughter, always putting her needs first. He has read countless bedtime stories, helps with homework, and he is there for her at every and any moment. He works hard to give her anything she wants. The love they share is beautiful. Even in detention, he calls her every morning before she leaves for school, knowing her day will be ruined if she doesn’t hear from him.
Photo Courtesy Of Brandi Rahimi
Ever since Shahrokh was taken, she’s been a shadow of her former self. She had a panic attack that day. Once, shortly after it happened, she jumped nearly a foot in the air when someone knocked on our door. She has grown increasingly paranoid and has asked me to get a camera for the door and a doorbell. She wants me to sleep with her at night. She has said that she no longer feels safe in her own home.
For me, having to suddenly raise our daughter alone has been devastating. I feel completely overwhelmed. I am trying to take it a day at a time and sometimes hour by hour, but I am mentally and physically exhausted. I’m experiencing symptoms of depression and sleeplessness.
Some days I have to have my daughter with me while I work, while also trying to juggle lawyer calls, schedule doctors’ appointments and pay bills. I don’t have as much time to emotionally support my daughter as I handle the business of a household.
Our daughter is a bright girl who wants to become an aeronautical engineer for NASA. She is a gifted student who has received straight A’s since kindergarten. It breaks my heart to worry that I will not have enough money for the opportunities that will be presented to her moving forward. I’ve already had to cancel her cello lessons and summer activities due to financial and emotional strain. Our niece set up an online fundraiser to help us cover costs.
Without my husband, there is no one to assist her with projects, follow up with teachers and make sure she is caught up in her classes as I manage working, and functioning as a single mother. Middle school itself is already a huge transition for a child ― let alone while trying to cope with a missing parent.
I fear the emotional strain of her father’s absence will impact her ability to succeed in this new, demanding chapter of her life. She is currently in therapy, and I hope it helps her manage these difficult times, but, really, there is no true cure for the grief borne from the taking of one’s father.
Even with all that my daughter and I have experienced, we are still devoted to Shahrokh. Though exhausted, we lean on one another. My husband’s spiritual instruction has been a compass for us through these times. As a family, Shahrokh has guided us through family prayer on a regular basis, and daily devotionals to keep us close to God and each other.
Photo Courtesy Of Brandi Rahimi
The Saturday before Shahrokh was taken, he mowed three neighbors’ yards for free. He is always feeding veterans and military personnel. For several months, he volunteered for the mentor program at our daughter’s school to be a caring role model to two young children. If someone is in need, he is always the first to help, and in his time of need we are doing our best to help him, as he faces his own mental struggles due to being away from us.
We visit and call him as much as possible. We attend every court hearing and proceeding. There’s never a moment when we’re not thinking of him or a way to bring him home to us.
It is hard to focus on work or life while missing my husband. I often think back to the early days of our relationship, when he would have flowers delivered to my workplace weekly. He always made time to shower me in his love no matter the difficulties we faced, and the memories of his devotion have been a source of strength for me. Shahrokh and I love being together. He is my best friend.
It is this side that media coverage hardly ever sees or highlights. The heartbreak and the perseverance behind the abstractions of this political moment, the real people harmed by these policies. But no matter how many refuse to see us as valid human beings, no matter how great the despair may become at times, we continue to prioritize love. We remain disciplined in our practice of love for one another.
Shahrokh is a good man, a loving husband, a devoted father and a kind human being. He is the beating heart of our family. Before he was taken from us, we would eat at Sarita’s, the restaurant where he first asked for my phone number, and talk about how different life would be if we had not met each other that day. I look forward to when we can go back there together and celebrate his freedom.
Brandi Rahimi was born and raised in San Antonio. She graduated from UTSA with a teaching degree and currently works as a preschool director. She is a mother and wife, advocating for the release of her husband from ICE detention.
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