This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Luciana Pereyra, a 25-year-old Peruvian national who moved to the US at 17 on a tennis scholarship, lost her H-1B-sponsored job in 2025, and had to return to Peru. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I was born and raised in Lima, Peru, and I’ve been into tennis since I was 7, when my dad first took me to a court five minutes from our house. My parents had always wanted me to play a sport.
I started competing when I was around 11, and by 14, I was watching older girls from my club go to the US on tennis scholarships. I wanted that, too. An agency connected me with US college coaches, and I sent them a video of myself playing in tournaments across South and Central America.
I chose a school in the US based on what it offered.
I moved to the US at 17 on an F-1 student visa
I spent my first year at Middle Georgia State University, then transferred to the University of Findlay in Ohio. I played varsity tennis there for four years while earning a Bachelor of Science degree in business administration.
I graduated in May 2022 with a 4.0 GPA. Because the pandemic gave college athletes an extra year of NCAA eligibility, meaning I could continue competing, I stayed for an MBA and finished the following year. My scholarship covered nearly everything.
I’d already started job hunting in October 2022, but I kept getting rejected after answering “yes” to the question about whether I’d need sponsorship. Eventually, I got a marketing and communications specialist role at Ohio State’s College of Nursing.
My future boss agreed to hold the offer until July, when my OPT authorization began. About nine months later, in April 2024, my H-1B approval notice arrived.
The US started to feel like home
Once I had my own apartment in Columbus and was earning my own money, I felt settled. But I never fully relaxed into it. I never really decorated my place because I didn’t know how long I’d get to keep it.
That stability only lasted until late 2025, when the College of Nursing restructured. On December 15, HR told me my position would end on January 15. I would have 60 days to find a new sponsor and file a new petition, or leave the country.
The timing made everything worse. Universities were shutting down for winter break just as my clock started, so nothing could move until mid-January.
I focused my job search on other universities, hoping they’d be more open to hiring international workers. One promising interview in Chicago fell apart the day before it was due to take place, when the recruiter learned I needed sponsorship and said the company had paused sponsorship altogether.
In February, I got close to another job opportunity at Ohio State. But about two weeks before my deadline to leave the country, I received an email saying they couldn’t get a visa approved in time or sponsor the new H-1B fees required under my status.
I headed back to Peru in March
I treated the job search like the last match of my career. But by February, the exhaustion caught up with me. I remember crying on the phone with my mom, just wanting it to be over.
A couple of weeks before I had to leave, I felt done, in a way. I started looking at the US and just wanted to get out. I felt like everything I’d done — my degrees, my grades, all of it — hadn’t mattered or been valued.
In my last days, I had to break my lease, give up volunteer work translating for families in my community, and pack eight years of my life into two suitcases and a carry-on.
Being back in Peru comes with reverse culture shock
Over the past five months, I’ve gained something I hadn’t felt in years: freedom from having to structure every decision around a visa.
I now split my time between freelance marketing work for a US client, coaching tennis, and building Casuma, a small business I launched in July that makes flavored cashew butters that combine the American nut-butter tradition with Peruvian flavors like lucuma and cacao. I’ve trademarked the name and sold close to 50 jars so far.
It’s also been great reconnecting with my family since I’ve been back — including my two younger brothers.
I visited the US again for a wedding in July and loved seeing everyone, but I wouldn’t move back right now. If I ever move abroad again, it won’t be on a work visa. I’ve already lived three years in that kind of survival mode, where losing a job means losing your home, too. It would need to come with a real path to permanent residency.
Studying and working in the US was worth it, especially for the English-language and cultural experience. But my advice would be to treat it as a season, not something permanent.
I assumed my US degrees and job experience would open every door, but it’s been harder than expected. And without trying to get political, there’s a narrative that immigrants take American jobs. In my experience, I had to prove myself over and over just to get a foot in the door. It’s not as simple as people assume.
Business Insider confirmed she was employed by Ohio State’s College of Nursing. Ohio State declined to respond to a request for comment.
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