“We have the impression of being abandoned. It’s a cry for help. We really love each other!” Léokaël Leclerc27 years old, and Estefania Espinoza Romero, Mexican 33 years old, would like to marry has Compiègne. They believe that the administration suspected A white wedding. “It’s a misunderstanding,” replies the town hall of Compiègne, who responds that they simply do not have the necessary documents for marriage, knowing that Estefania is in an irregular situation.
“His love for me is sincere,” proclaims Léokaël Leclerc, on the 5th floor of a building on rue de l’Amiral-Wemyss. A rental that he has designed to properly accommodate his beloved Estefania. The two met remotely, on the internet, a year ago. An ocean separated them. Estefania lived in Ciudad Obregòn, one of the most dangerous cities in Mexico, near the U.S. border.
In a text translated from Spanish to French, she explains her motivations. She says she only has one, in fact: Léokaël. “I came to meet someone who showed me true love,” she says. He gave me back a little of what I essentially felt like I had lost somewhere.”
“He greeted me with a bouquet of roses at the airport”
“I was coming out of depression,” remembers Léokaël of their virtual meeting. I wanted to take control of myself. And perfect my foreign language levels.” He joins a Facebook group where they speak Spanish and meets Estefania. “We got to know each other naturally, we became friends,” continues Léokaël. Then we realized we had fallen in love.”
“I asked her if she was sure she wanted to come,” adds Léokaël, who says he blames himself for making her feel uncomfortable. Because without marriage, and even with a civil partnership, it is impossible for Estefania to foresee her future in France. “I can’t work or go back to school,” she says.
Estefania arrived in France in May. “Léokaël welcomed me with a bouquet of roses and a ring,” she remembers, moved. During this interview about their situation, she goes to get her wedding dress, which she holds up with pride. Be careful, Léokaël perhaps should not have looked at her before the wedding, he is told. “No, it’s very good like that,” he comments, admiringly.
The “tourist” visa expires after three months
When Estefania arrived in France, she only had a tourist visa for three months. To obtain a “long stay” visa, you would have had to do it earlier, from Mexico, by going to Mexico City, a two and a half hour plane ride away. “It was too late… continues Léokaël. We couldn’t anticipate.” Love fell on them, they say.
The couple entered into a civil partnership on June 21 “so that she is protected”. But its regularization goes through the Oise prefecture. “We opened a file in July 2024,” recalls Léokaël. But in September, a letter from the prefecture told us that some papers were missing, “which we had nevertheless sent.”
However, they plan a wedding date: December 21. And reserve the Desbordes home in Compiègne, to invite sixteen people.
An appointment is made at the civil registry on November 12 at the Compiègne town hall. “The agent tells us that the presence of marriage witnesses and a sworn translator is obligatory,” he laments. We would have preferred to be warned.” But above all, the couple has the impression that their sincerity is doubted, given that they are told that a hearing in the presence of an elected official is necessary.
Received at town hall by the chief of staff
Tuesday, December 3, Simon Moulu, director of the mayor’s office, received them, at the request of Philippe Marini, with the director of the civil status service. The goal is to reassure them. “It is not up to us to doubt their love,” clarifies Simon Moulu. If they cannot get married as is, it is because Estefania did not have, on that date, either an apostilled birth certificate, nor a translated and apostilled celibacy certificate. Which is obligatory for a Mexican national.” The couple is still waiting for official documents from Mexico, which would allow their marriage. “My sister is going to pick them up in Mexico,” says Estefania.
As for the negative feeling felt after their visit to the town hall on November 12, Simon Moulu recalls that there was a fire alarm that day. “Everyone came out, including the town hall officials,” he says. When they returned, the couple had disappeared. It’s a shame, the services would have told them that this hearing is obligatory, for any person in an irregular situation, like Estefania.”
At Compiègne town hall, it is the deputy Joël Dupuy de Méry who leads these hearings. He’s the one who scares the most, with his voice that carries very far. But in reality, he is very nice. And in general, it goes well. “As she does not speak French well, she will have to be assisted by a sworn interpreter,” continues Simon Moulu. On the wedding, which may have to be postponed: “The priority is the documents,” he says.
“Once married, she will be able to plan for France”
The couple is willing to comply with this obligatory hearing. “But the official interpreter costs €250 for an hour,” say Estefania and Léokaël. We don’t have the means.” Money has become a big problem. The couple’s only source of income is that of Léokaël, who receives the disabled adult allowance (AAH) of €1,016, the “independent living” increase of €104, as well as €268 of personalized housing assistance (APL). ).
“Every month, I find myself overdrawn,” he says. I also have loans to repay because the apartment had to be furnished. CCAS cannot help us because I am at maximum resources. The refrigerator is empty.”
Before falling in love with Estafania, Léokaël lived with his mother, who helps the couple with her means. “If she is married, that allows her to stay in France and that unlocks a lot of things,” he insists. She will be able to work, receive aid, receive care… But each time, she is refused because she does not have papers. Even at France Travail. It’s unacceptable to keep her waiting. She doesn’t hurt anyone. She has friends who like her. My family appreciates it.”
“It’s not a white wedding,” she said.
“We have friends in Compiègne who unconditionally support our relationship,” says Estefania. For example, Lauriane, who helped Léokaël prepare for the arrival of Estafania. But also a retired professor who lives in Margny-Lès-Compiègne. “We want to get married and later buy a car and land. My plan is to evolve professionally, without affecting the natural course of the wonderful city of Compiègne.”
A white wedding? “It’s not a white wedding,” she insists. We are in a civil partnership and we live together. We go everywhere together and we have the same friends here and in Mexico.”
The young woman lists the “very notable differences” between her and him. “I’m an introverted person and he’s super extroverted. He is sociable and I more or less am. Léokaël shares everything with information and I avoid giving explanations at all costs. We have in common that we love different cultures, video games, “anime”, politics. We read Cyrillic because he knows Serbian and I know a little Ukrainian.”
“She is everything to me, she is my future”
The picture would be idyllic without the administrative twists and turns. “This has a huge psychological impact on both of us,” continues Léokaël, whose mental health has always been impaired. “I was diagnosed with autism (ADHD) in 2021,” he explains. Two nephews of mine are autistic and I asked myself questions. He also experiences disorders linked to post-traumatic stress and “borderline” personality disorder. Finally, he suffers from type 1 diabetes.
So, morale was in check, before his romantic encounter. “Léokaël is truly for me an icon of strength, despite obstacles,” continues Estefania, who also experienced depression. It’s not easy, especially with others, having to explain why I’m with him. There are many myths and stereotypes about autism and mental illness. I feel like sometimes people don’t know what to do with someone like that. It’s very simple, don’t use sarcasm, but use love and patience.”
“She is everything to me,” Léokaël declares to his sweetheart. This is my future.” They both burst into tears. “I love the French, their civic courage,” she concludes. I love Compiègne. My hometown in Mexico is totally different. There is no diversity of people. I’ve been here for some time and there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t have a cup of coffee, thank God and say: ‘How beautifully Compiègne is awake today!’
